The Horsewoman of the Apocalypse
by Well-Yeah-There's-That
Summary: Fiona, our heroine, is surviving in a world of stumbling Geeks. Alone with only her equine counterpart, Faline, that world is dark and dangerous. Will that change when an encounter in the woods links her to group of other survivors? T for safety, for now. Cover image made by the wonderful DemonicHope!
1. Woods, Women, Walkers, What?

**Greetings! I've had some kind of idea strike me recently and, since we've now got about seven months to go before the next season of The Walking Dead on television, I figured I'd get back to trying my hand at some fanfiction. It's been a while, and I'll be brushing off the dust on my style and storytelling****, so any feedback of the constructive variety will be greatly appreciated.**

**This is an AU story where there will be situational blurring, mixing OC with canon characters from the TV and comic series, and survival horror.  
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_**And of course, though I wish I owned something pertaining to this fantastic series**__** I only have a picture of Bicycle Girl and a few volumes of the comics/graphic novels. All those characters and places that you recognize are the work and property of the people you see listed on the credits and copyright pages -all hail Robert Kirkman's genius. I'm just a student trying to entertain herself and others; I get nothing more out of this than joy.**_

__**Without further adieu, I give you the first installment of "The Horsewoman of the Apocalypse".**

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><p>"I hate the woods, Faline. Those things could be anywhere," I whispered to my horse. We'd been traveling for days and running from the geeks as Liam had called them. I pushed that thought from my mind trying to move on before the pain hit me. We had to get out of these woods or I was going to go crazy from jumping at every little sound. Faline wasn't too fond of having to weave through the trees, especially when we had to kick it into a fast gallop to maneuver around three of Them. She whinnied in response to my statement, but froze when we heard a yelp and the panicked breathing that was definitely not the corpses. We both turned this way and that, trying to find the source, when we saw the bobbing of a muddy blonde head a few yards away –headed straight for the three we'd avoided only ten minutes before. The little figure was fleeing from another couple of stumbling bodies with gnashing teeth, and they were gaining on her pretty easily; they must have been going for a while. I whistled and pressured Faline's sides, though not much goading was necessary as she sensed what we needed to do. There was a reason we'd both made it this far together.<p>

"Hey, hey, c'mon kid, gimme your hand!" I called as loud as I dared as we sped up to the figures side, kicking up dirt and debris that helped to slow the geeks only momentarily. What I could now clearly see was a little girl hesitated only a moment –a leftover reaction from when society was as it had been, the fear of a stranger, but at least I was living—and she flailed her arm out as she stretched her legs as much as she could. I tensed my arm and readied myself for a big pull, grabbed her proffered limb and heaved her up onto the saddle in front of me. She was small and easily curled into my front, shaking from adrenaline and fear, and if she hadn't been doing that I would hardly have noticed she was there front how light she was. "Ha!" I cheered Faline on into her fastest pace she could muster and we all three got the heck out of there.

It was a good ten minutes of Faline's run before we finally found the open road. Well, as open as a highway full of abandoned cars that had once been shuttling fear-stricken people to dead ends could be. At least here I could see further than ten feet in front of me before a tree blocked my sight. We had lost the stumblers from the woods a decent way back, so I wasn't too worried about them reappearing for a while. A nice strolling gait would do us for now. The girl in my lap had ceased her shaking and dared to peek up from my shoulder as we slowed, and she looked at me after she surveyed our surroundings. Her hair, without mud, probably looked like straw, her eyes were the same hazel my brother's had been before the infection, and her face –or what I could see where she'd been crying and wiped away the dirt- was spotted with many freckles.

"I'm Sophia," She offered after a moment of awkward silence. "Thanks for saving me."

I grinned at her manners and glanced once more around us. "I'm Fiona." I gently tugged Faline to a stop so we could readjust now that we had a moment; I'm sure my shoulders wouldn't be the most awesome scenery for the ride ahead of us. "Hold tight, I'm going to swing off and then I'll help you down."

She certainly hadn't come from a place where she could regularly ride horses. She sat very unsteady for a moment after I touched ground before I could help her down. As I was guiding her form down I could hear a loud gurgle from her stomach, and I realized I was rather hungry myself.

"Well Sophia, what d'you say we take a peek in these cars and see if we can't find some food to get us on our way, hmm?" She nodded and we moved forward as a group, Sophia sticking very close to my side.  
>"You have a very nice horse," She said quietly after we had gone maybe a football field's length down the highway and snagged a rather full knapsack of decent snacks and surprisingly a couple of bottles of water –one of which we both shared happily and another I poured into a makeshift bowl for Faline, who had blown a playful gust of air at Sophia for her comment.<p>

"Why thank you. She thinks you're pretty nice yourself," I translated. "That's Faline."

"Oh! Like Bambi's friend!" She said excitedly while petting Faline's cheek. I nodded with a chuckle and looked into another promising car that looked loaded to the brim with rather useful stuff. After I'd pulled free a couple warm looking blankets, a small bag of canned foods, and a nearly new carton of cigarettes I turned back to my two companions.

"Alright Miss Sophia, we're going to get you back up on the saddle, I'm going to pack these supplies up, and then we're going to figure out where we're headed. Were you traveling with anyone?" I asked as we headed to the trunk of the car where I would lift her so she could hop back on.

"Well, I was with a group, and we got separated a couple days ago, but I don't know where they would have gone. I think they mentioned Bending…?" She inflected her words to make it a question.

"You mean, Fort Binning?" She nodded enthusiastically and I tried to keep my face from falling. Binning had fallen a while back.

"Alright, well we will try to catch up to them then. Now, I'm going to lift you onto the trunk here, and you can step up to the roof. And now, just slide up and onto the saddle –yes, you can hold the horn. There! Alright, now I'll just put these things in the saddlebags. _And _done!" I commentated, trying to keep myself from mentioning what I knew of Binning. Maybe we'd catch her people before they got too far; they may have stuck rather close to the highway if they knew Sophia was lost. I shook my head a small fraction and hefted myself up behind the girl and situated myself comfortably around her on the saddle. We snacked quietly on a sealed bag of pretzels as we headed down the highway in the direction of the fort. As we trudged slowly and silently, only sighting a single far off "walker" as Sophia called it, she started to doze; she had to have been exhausted if she had been separated days ago. I looked at her face with worry etched into her brows and a firm grip on my left arm and hoped I could do better at keeping her safe than I had with my brother.


	2. Yule Take Care of Each Other

**I'm so glad to see this story's gotten so many hits so far, but I'd certainly like to hear from more of you. Criticism is what helps a writer grow and improve, so help me keep this story getting more enjoyable!  
><strong>**I still don't own anything. As you'll notice, this story won't necessarily take place in a linear fashion. I'll specify when something's happening if it's really important to know when something happened.  
><strong>Now, here's the second chapter that I'll be dedicating to Demonic Hope and Leyshla Gisel, my first two reviewers!<strong> **

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><p>"<em>Mom! Dad!" <em>

"_Let's go, wake up, it's Christmas!" _

_Liam and I had been up since before five in the morning. I had snuck to his room, carefully avoiding the squeaky board in front of our parents room, and we had played cards until it was eight –that's when our parents had deemed was an acceptable time to be woken for any holiday. My brother and I didn't quite know what they would do if we continued to wake them up the second our eyes opened on a present-giving day, but we didn't want to chance it; they had once banned desserts for a month when we'd snuck a couple cookies before dinner, and that was an absolute nightmare._

"_C'mon! You guys promised you'd get up at eight, and it's eight, and you promised!" I said as I shook our father's shoulder. He peeked out from a half-lidded eye and popped it shut with a grin and exaggerated snore. I could see Mom's side of the bed shiver, and there came a light chuckle._

"_Guys, this isn't funny. We waited this time! Let's go open stuff," Liam, fourteen at the time, whined shaking our mom. There was quiet in the room, minus the small shuffle of the blanket that Mom was curled under; then they both popped out of bed with monstrous roars and pulled the both of us onto the bed with them. Dad's fingers ghosted my sides, sending me into a loud fit of giggles while Liam complained as Mom was kissing his cheeks and calling him her little man. I squealed as we all became a wiggling mass on the bed. After a good five minutes of later we all collapsed back letting the lingering giggles wear away before Liam continued persisting we go downstairs and open our gifts._

"_Alright, alright, you win. Let's go," Our dad's deep voice boomed with another chuckle. With his permission we bolted downstairs and sat at the base of the tree impatiently waiting for them to join us. I remember being somewhat disappointed with the first presents I opened that year. A couple books that had been on my list, a new puzzle, three new rolls of film were nice, and a beautiful pocket knife that I had to promise only to use when necessary, but they weren't what would fulfill a ten-year-old's wishful Christmas hopes. Liam experience the same, though he had a slightly bigger, better gift of a new rifle for which Dad promised shooting lessons. Dad had gotten Mom a pretty new necklace, a porcelain locket with a picture of the two of them on one inner side and a picture of Liam and I on the other –she had worn that every day following that Christmas as she never particularly cared for new jewelry. Mom gave Dad a new golf set, that excited him like a kid going into a candy store._

_As we helped clean up the wrapping paper, Mom and Dad started working on the breakfast items we would take over to our Aunt Lisa's, and Liam came across a tiny little box tucked up next to the trunk of the tree._

"_Psst," He called to me as I stuffed more paper into the trash bag. I snapped up to look. "Look at what I found," He grinned waving it in the air. In neat writing on the front it said both our names, so obviously I ran over and tried to snatch it from him. He, being the taller and older sibling, easily held it up out of my reached and popped the box open, at which time a little note fluttered out and right into my reach._

"_You didn't really think that was all, did you, you silly geese? We'll be getting your other gifts on the way home from Aunt Lisa's. Go ahead and try to guess; it'll never happen," I read word for word as we heard Dad laugh in the kitchen. He enjoyed doing these types of gifts. "What d'you think they got us Li?"_

"_Hopefully a box that I can ship you off to China in," he teased sticking his tongue out at me. He nudged me a second later rolling his eyes. "I'm only joking. I wish I knew. Mom, Dad, can't we just skip Aunt Lisa's?"_

_A snowball had a better chance in an Arizona summer than we did skipping the yearly Christmas breakfast, so we both practically pulled out our hair sitting through the meal and adults socializing while we considered what our unknown gifts could be. I was hoping for something like the Dreamcast, though I doubted they would go for that. Finally, what seemed like eons of sitting, picking at food, and making small talk with relatives we hardly saw any other time of the year, we were free. We were a two person force to be reckoned with, hauling our parents to the truck, and not bothering to waste the time getting in opposite sides of the backseat. I just dove in, Liam hopped in after, and we were off._

_My heart did somersaults into my throat when I realized where we pulled up to; we were at Dad's friend Robert's farm. Liam knew this too, and he looked to me with wide, excited eyes._

"_Alright kiddos, Rob's waiting for us in the barn. You both have to choose who gets which," Dad said vaguely as he exited the driver seat, Mom followed his lead, smiling back at us, and Liam and I shared another baffled look._

"_Choose what Dad?" I asked as I tumbled out of the truck and had to jog to catch up to their long gait; this was much more difficult for my short legs than my brother's lanky form as would always be the case._

"_You mean you don't have a guess yet?" He asked. "And I thought my kids were quicker than that," He chided with amusement. After his words my uncertainty was clarified by a loud whinny followed by a much softer one. _

"_Horses?" I gasped as we stepped into the barn. We'd come here often to help Rob with some of his chores, and in return he'd let us ride for a little while on a couple of his trail horses. Now, in the stalls beside where Rob and Dad were talking, there were two new occupants, both very young and not ones we had seen before. Dad had bought them a couple weeks before the holidays and Rob was nice enough to keep them under wraps at his place so we wouldn't get suspicious. These two young horses were beautiful, and there was no question in my mind of who would get which. One was a stocky Nokota colt –I only knew that because Rob had a couple of them that her took a lot of pride in- with a blue roan coat, he couldn't have been more than two, and he was up causing a ruckus prancing around his stall and whinnying. When he noticed us he moved over to the door of his stall and poked his head out with a huff. That horse had Liam written all over him._

_Then I noticed Her. She peeked out right after the colt called out again. She had crystalline blue eyes, creamy hair covering her smooth frame, and a strawberry blonde mane. Those beautiful blues met my own green eyes and I knew, even if by some weirdness in the world Liam decided he wanted her, this horse was meant for me. I went up to her stall and didn't wait for the adults to give me the go-ahead; I unlatched the door and stepped in, avoiding a pile of mess while I went. She hadn't moved an inch from where she had peeked out other than to follow me with her eyes until I stood still, at which point she stepped with her front side to face me and bring her nose to my hair._

"_What is she?" I asked over to the two men who were watching me with interest now as I petted the horse's neck._

"_She's an Andalusian, sweetheart. I figured you like her. What do you think of the colt Liam?" Dad said looking from me to Liam who stood at the door to the stall next door trying to touch the boy's muzzle._

"_He's awesome Dad. Are you seriously saying they're ours?"_

"_Absolutely. Rob's going to bring them over in his trailer this afternoon. That is, if you guys understand the responsibility of having your own horses."_

_And we did. We had helped take care of our parents' horses for years, we had helped Robert care for all his horses too, so we were ready for our own._

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><p>"We couldn't have asked for better horses in this hell," I said as I ruffled a bit of Faline's mane. Liam sighed from beside me on Boromir. It was difficult for me to believe that Christmas had been twelve years ago, it was even harder for me to grasp that the world we knew had gone to shit only three weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime since I'd heard the panicked yells of my parents from the house, since the things that used to be our neighbors wandered over while Liam and I were caring for the horses and tore apart Mom's arm, since Dad had shot both Andersons after Mr. Anderson took a chunk out of Dad's ankle, since we had fled from what our parents became –letting the other horses run far from what was making them so anxious.<p>

"We really couldn't have," my brother agreed with a sad smile. "I don't know that we'd be alive without them today."

"I wouldn't want to be alive without them today," I felt myself getting choked up thinking of those parents that had bestowed these fantastic creatures to us in the first place and realizing they wouldn't be coming back. "We're all we've got left Liam."

"Don't start crying sis, we're almost into town. Gotta keep our wits," He reached out and gently bopped my head like he did when we were younger. "We need food, water, and some first aid supplies couldn't hurt."

With no more words, we continued into the small town with quaint streets that would have been bustling with families doing their weekend shopping or just out enjoying the weather if the geeks hadn't swept through the town like locusts and moved the population in search for more live snacks; those streets now only held rotting, chewed, unmoving corpses and broken stores that we were hoping would only hold some supplies we desperately needed. We dismounted in front of a market and let the horses know we would be right out. I snagged my hatchet from the left saddlebag and followed Liam in silently, scanning the visible aisles for any movement. The place had already been ransacked, probably early on in the outbreak, but I could see the pharmacy had barely been touched and grinned. I carefully touched Liam's shoulder and motioned where I was looking; he nodded for me to go on.

"Be careful. I'm going to find the preserved foods. Meet back in ten minutes?" I nodded in agreement to his terms and moved quickly. I could see a restroom sign beside the pharmacy, and it had been days since I'd been able to sit instead of squat; the little joys you absolutely relish when they've pretty much been taken away. I shook my head, first I would load my bag with all the prescription pain killers, antibiotics, and anything else helpful I could find. Thankfully, a quick survey of the stock shelves showed a clear room, no geeks, so I was able to scoop bottles upon bottles into my bag with little need to slow do. _'Oh sweet porcelain throne, you will be mine!'_ I allowed a chuckle as I hopped the locked half gate out of the pharmacy section, snatched a few boxes of feminine supplies that I then emptied into my backpack to save space, and continued on to that glorious women's room sign.

Though I knew everything couldn't go perfectly, I was quite pleased when I only found one of those things in the women's room. It was facing away from the door when I entered, I had smelled the stench walking down the hall, so I was ready to strike when it turned and I was certain it was one of them. When I dislodged my hatchet from its skull, grimacing only slightly, I slid the lock into place so I wouldn't be caught with my pants down if one of them tried to stumble into the room. I did my thing, approached the sink, saying a word of thanks to whatever may have been listening that there was still running water in this place, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I splashed a bit of water on the spatter of blood the now still corpse had gotten on me before examining myself. My copper hair hung limp and stuck to my face from the southern heat, my eyes were developing those dark bags from nights lacking sleep, I could hardly distinguish my freckles from the dirt and grime that covered most of my fair skin, and my clothes were so baggy from missing so many meals and the first week of being sick to my stomach of the sight and smell of the walking corpses I'd already had to zip-tie a couple of the belt loop together..

'_Well, I had been trying to get down from that 16.'_ I thought derisively. Sighing and splashing a small bit more water to feel that little refreshment I readied my weapon, unlocked the door, and moved out to meet back up with Liam. This was how our last two weeks had gone since we left home and all that we knew, and I wish I could say how long this would last. It was getting old already, but at least I had my brother and our horses.


	3. That Sick to the Core Feeling

**Thanks again to Demonic Hope for reviewing. We'll be seeing him soon, though maybe not as one would expect.**

**I'm hoping to release a chapter with at least 1,000 words per weekday (M-F). With such a short goal it shouldn't be too hard, so there's that to look forward to. **I may post on Saturday this weekend (3/24) to allow myself to get caught up for missing an upload Thursday.****

**Once more, I'd love to hear from those of you reading who haven't reviewed yet. What's going through your head?**

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><p>"Fiona!" I heard my name called from the direction of the house followed by a loud, short whistle. Mom had been in one of her moods all week, which was why I'd gone out riding in the first place, and if I wasn't home in the ten minutes after she called my name I would be in deep trouble.<p>

"Fiona," I mocked quietly as I rolled my eyes. It was the only day I'd been able to take Faline out on the trails; I'd had homework most nights that week, soccer practice two afternoons, and the parents decided my room had to be cleaned before I'd be allowed to do more than the necessary horse-care chores. So, of course, hardly an hour into my overdue ride she would come up with some reason to cut it short. I debated not going back, keeping on until I reached my grandparents place, but I turned Faline to the trail the would lead us home, and she gladly obliged since she was about ready to be back in the stables for the night. She'd been on edge since we'd reached the woods this ride, but I hadn't thought much past it just being in the air from Mom's foul temper; well, I hadn't thought more about it until a rather big dark figure bustled out of the brush and swung up to its hind feet. My muscles tensed and Faline turned and shuffled back as much as she dared, unsure of how I wanted us to get around this. My brain was stuck, I was fourteen, I had not seen a bear this close outside of the zoo, I had no idea how to deal. It roared and I realized that no movie could accurately recreate the fear that ran through me at the sound.

"Fiona?" There was fright that mirrored my own in the harmonized call that time. Faline tossed her head to the sides, buckled her front legs in a steady stance, and made an attempt at an intimidating sound, which brought the bear back to its four paws, but also encouraged it to advance on us. That was the point where I urged Faline on, making a hard u-turn and holding for dear life as Faline worked her strong thighs to put as much distance between us and danger as she could. I felt like we were almost flying.

"Help!" I called out as we deviated from the path to try throwing off our pursuer. We were going to have to go back that way at some point to return to the house, but that wasn't looking promising as the black bear kept up pretty well with our attempts to weave back. My heart dropped, I slumped forward gripping her shoulder firmly, and I felt bile rise in my throat when Faline stumbled on a tree root and gave a grunt of effort as she kept from falling flat. She was uneasy on her footing, and I encouraged her to keep moving as we arched further to the left. Leaves were crunching and branches snapped as the large beast continued behind us. Time was slowed by my racing heart, I felt we had to have been running for an hour and no one had come to help us. A loud _BANG_ rang out, and Faline reared up nearly sending me to the ground; the only thing saving me from a painful fall was my iron-tight leg hold and death grip on the reins and saddle. Faline pranced about nervously trying to find the source of the noise and worrying about the creature that had been threatening our lives just a moment before. The woods were eerily silent after what I knew to be a gun shot, there were no sounds of the bumbling bear, the birds that had served as our ride's soundtrack had flown form the trees, and all I could hear was my ragged breathing, Faline's nervous tapping at the ground, and then the rustling of movement through the fallen leaves.

"Holy cow sis, did you see what a shot that was?" Liam exclaimed as he and Boromir came into sight. He had his hunting rifle balanced carefully in his arms as he steered them towards the still, fallen body of the bear. We didn't see too many bears near our home, but the ones we had seen hadn't been as big as that one. Both Liam and I lifted ourselves up and off the horses to examine the large black mass; Boromir ambled over to Faline, and they shared their own moment of checking the other's safety much like we did after admiring my brother's clean shot to the bear's head. He grabbed me into a bear hug –no pun intended. "You're ok, right? No scratches, not eaten?"

"I'm fine now, Liam. Just really shaken. I mean, look how big he is," I marveled kneeling to look more closely at the creature.

"Yeah, but no match for me. Dude, Dad's going to freak out when he sees this! His deer's nothing compared to this," Liam, ever the competitor, was already past the shock of seeing such a sight on our land, and found some way to turn it into a contest. He and Dad usually went on a weekend camping trip together at the start of deer season, a tradition since the year we had gotten our horses, and all Mom and I heard for weeks after was who took down the most or the best game. It made me a little ill that killing was sport for them but at least we put everything they brought home to good use.

"Yeah, this pretty well tops it all so far," I agreed before jumping at the sound of more leaves shuffling frantically.

"Fiona! Liam! Oh thank goodness. I thought someone was trying to snatch you, Fi," our Mom cried as she came to wrap us both in a hug. She jumped back with a yelp when she realized exactly what lay on the ground in front of us.

"Nah Mom, just a bear," Liam breezed as he finally got close enough to the body to touch the blank face.

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><p>That's how he always was, nonchalant and intrigued by everything. The first time we'd come across the dead that weren't acting like dead should I had had to take Boromir's reins and pull us away, because Liam was enthralled with watching the way they worked. He poked and prodded at the first loner we took down, which hadn't made too much of a difference to me since I was hunched over at the tree line emptying my system of the meager lunch I had choked down. That's the day we figured out you had to damage the brain. We'd run around this little clearing for a good half hour, me swinging my hatchet and Liam taking an old machete we found at the Anderson's house, and made no headway as we sliced at the chest, arms, and any major arteries. Finally, in a fit of frustration because this thing would not fall I blindly swung the hatchet above my head and down, connecting with a disgusting crunch-squish. That's when I took a run for the tree line, while Liam, Faline, and Boromir all approached the downed geek with caution.<p>

"C'mon sis, you can't do that every time we get close to one of these things. They're everywhere, and I can't always save you from danger," Liam teased when he came over to rub a comforting hand on my back.

"I know Liam. How about this, I'll carry a barf bag with me so I can puke on the go," I joked wryly swiping my arm across my mouth and straightening back up. He gave the first real laugh I'd heard since we saw Mr. Anderson strangely hobble onto our property. I almost cried when I realized how much I had missed it in the week it had been. For someone like my brother who had always been making a joke or laughing wildly in the face of danger, even a day was a long time to go without feeling something humorous. I knew already didn't like this world full of deadly...dead folks, but that realization instantly made it even worse.


	4. No Place for a Teen

**And in this corner, squeaking in with just over a ton of words and still within the posting schedule... CHAPTER 4! **

**Thanks again to Demonic Hope for the review, I could only dream of having a horse like Faline for the ZA. She's got such personality too!  
><strong>**And wonderful to hear from OrangeGumDrop, your answer lies ahead ma'am.**

**To those of you lurking because you're too lazy to log-in or don't have a log-in, good news! I'm allowing anonymous reviews. Let's keep with the theme of constructive criticism though -but really, my feelings are pretty hard to hurt if you do stray from that path. **

**Last note: I'll be back with a post on Monday (3/26) which is when I should also be able to set a more definitive posting time-of-day for the weekday chapters.**

**Enjoy! Review! Spread the Word? Eh, above all Be Prepared!**

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><p>We had been cautiously weaving through the cars down the interstate for a good hour while Sophia slept hunched back on me. Sunset had just past, and the sky was starting to get dark, and I figured I'd fair better if I left her to sleep even as she made noises and twitched like a bad dream was plaguing her; at least there the things couldn't actually harm her. I was at least twice her age, and I was getting uncomfortable traveling in the diminishing light and catching glimpses of shuffling corpses that I gently turned us the opposite direction from; I didn't want to put myself and Faline through the trouble of dealing with a panicked kid <em>and<em> watching for flesh-craving beasts. I stretched forward, trying not to wake the child, and patted my trusty steed's shoulder just where the saddle ended –one of her favorite places to be loved on.

"Eyes out for somewhere to huddle for the night, girl," I advised, knowing she probably couldn't quite grasp my words, but she snorted anyway hearing that I was talking to her. Of course, when she trotted us up next to an abandoned U-haul a few more minutes down the road I had to re-evaluate what I thought she could and couldn't understand. It was one of those moderate sized trucks that could probably fit a small car inside and had a ramp that you could wheel heavy furniture or whatnot easily into the storage. It was going to be beyond perfect; I couldn't believe the luck.

"Sophia," I whispered gingerly shaking the girl's shoulder. She jolted awake with a frightened half-shout that I shushed with a hand firmly set on her shoulder and a calming reassurance that nothing was wrong. "It's just me. Just Fiona. I need to hop down to check this truck so we can have somewhere safe until it gets light again. It's going to do us no good to be searching in the dark with who knows how many of those things out there."

"Oh, ok," she answered demurely scooting forward to allow me to lift myself up and off. I examined her as I reached into on of the packs for my hatchet in case something was lingering around the truck. She was obviously out of sorts, eyes still blurry from much needed sleep with hopefully more to come, and tensed from the darkness around us. Stopping was definitely the right decision for this night. Faline turned to bring her face to mine and pressed her muzzle to my shoulder, a move she'd pulled since I'd met her, this time looking to the sky and back stepping a couple paces. She was uneasy, and Sophia –the obviously sweet kid- leaned forward and wrapped herself in an awkward hug to the horse's neck whispering kindly to her. "It's ok Faline, I'm scared too, but we'll be alright."

I quickly spun to the back door of the heaven-sent U-haul to hide my squinting back tears. She had so much hope, just like Liam had. I shook the thought away as I gripped the handle of my weapon tighter and unhooked the latch to open the roll up door just enough for a peek inside. I was thankful I had had the forethought not to swing the door up without hesitation. There was the stink of human waste, but not of the rotting flesh that lingered all around the corpses both walking and stationary; it was still enough to raise a bit of bile at the back of my throat. I saw a pair of unsteady feet that turned at the sound of the door coming up, but I didn't hear the usual gurgle and chomping of rotting teeth that usually accompanied the walkers.

"H-hello?" A muted voice called from inside obviously unsure whether I meant harm. They seemed to be fighting their own battle of skittering away to the farthest corner or coming closer to the door to see just who was outside. That fear comforted me enough to force the door up as far as I could with a single push, allowing the little remaining light left by the large moon to shine in upon a teenage boy. He had the figure of someone who'd missed a few too many meals, but he was very much alive. The whimper he had let slip as the door flew up was forgotten as he tried to straighten his back and puff his chest as a show of courage.

"Hi," I beamed with a genial wave dropping my hatchet to my side limply, beyond relieved that he was trying to take a bit of my cheek for dinner. My friendly gesture slackened his tense shoulders, which jumped back on edge when Faline popped her head around the corner to peek in and let out a misleading spooky grunt that served as her way of expressing relief. "Oh, don't mind her," I assured, "That just means she's happy you're not half-decomposed."

He looked only fifteen or sixteen, with slim, sinewy limbs that gave him an athletic look. His light brown hair was dirty, moderately long, and stuck to his face with sweat. He had shoved hair off to the sides so he could get a good look at us, which gave me a good look at his dark brown eyes. Those eyes flickered from me, to the horse that was moving to stand beside me, to the small frame on top of the horse before coming back to me –the apparent leader of our ragtag troop.

"Is it alright if we share your shelter until it's light? We don't mean any harm, we just… really don't want to be out here when those things show up out of nowhere," I tried to be expedient, starting to feel my own fatigue setting in.

"I-I guess," He stuttered uncomfortably. "I just-… let me get this stuff out of here."

He took a moment to carefully pick up a big bucket –I noticed it was like the kinds my dad would get when needed mixable cement— and shuffle around the storage space to come out a couple feet away from me. The smell that had first wrinkled my nose upon opening the door got so strong I wondered how I kept from tossing up the pretzels we had snacked on earlier. I kept my eyes on the kid as I worked to let down the ramp and helped a confused Sophia down.

"Who's he?" She questioned as he feet touched the ground. I could only offer her a shrug as he looked carefully around at the edge of the road before dumping the bucket and proceeding to empty his stomach simultaneously. I averted my eyes knowing he would be safe while he had his personal moment, only to see Sophia scrunch her face up like she'd just had a lemon thrust upon her tongue. She raised a hand to her nose and pinch. "It stinks in there!"

"I know it does kiddo, but there aren't too many places we can choose from that would be any safer," I explained as I turned to Faline. "Now Faline, we're going to be closed in for the night, so I _need_ for you to understand me when I ask you to go do your business before we shut the door," I tried, only to receive a rather blank look and laughter from Sophia –at least I helped take her mind off the stench.

A moment later, the boy came back wiping a ragged sleeve across his lips and holding the bucket a bit away from him, and Faline wandered slowly in the direction he'd just come from and keeping her head in sight while she did whatever she needed to before turning in. Sophia inched herself behind me so subtly I wouldn't have noticed if her elbow hadn't grazed my backpack. After sliding the empty bucket back into the truck, the boy turned to me and wiped his hands furiously on his jeans before offering one to me.

"I'm Daniel," He spoke with an unsure authority. I took his offered hand with a smile, glad he was willing to share his space. Unless he was a magician, he had nothing but the clothes on his back and that bucket, so I couldn't see a reason to fear this kid that was just about my height.

"Fiona. This is Sophia," I leaned a tad to the side to expose her for just a second before she squeaked and hid further into my side. "And my horse is Faline."

He nodded taking the information in as Faline walked back to join us and looked at him sideways.

"Well, let's get in so none of them show up and see us in here," I suggested to which no one objected. Faline took shaky steps up the ramp before making a small jump when she was sure she was close enough, not a fan of the noise the ramp made scraping the pavement under her weight. Sophia followed up the ramp while Daniel lifted himself in. I ran the ramp back in so no geeks would get on our level easily and lifted myself in as well. As I was getting ready to let the door down Daniel caught me.

"Don't let that go down all the way, it'll lock itself," He explained and I quirked an eyebrow at him. "I've been in here…I don't know, three days because my-my dad told me to stay put and when he shut the door it locked on its own."

I nodded at his advice and grabbed one of the old t-shirts I had stuffed in my backpack to slide where the latch wouldn't hook itself and trap us. When I had that secured I stepped gingerly over to Faline, my hands outstretched in the dark so I wouldn't crash face first into the wall. Finding her I pulled out the blankets Sophia and I had snagged from the car earlier in the day and offered them to my younger companions along with a couple granola snacks I'd snagged the other day. They were grateful and took to separate corners while Faline eased herself down and I joined her.

"So, Daniel, how'd you end up here alone?" I dared to ask when things went quiet for a bit. I had heard Sophia murmur a 'goodnight' a few moments after the crinkling of snack packages died down and one of the breathing patterns slowed down. I still heard Daniel turning to find comfort on his blanket. He stayed quiet for a moment aside from a brief clearing of his throat. His voice cracked a bit when he finally answered.

"Me, my mom, and my dad had come from the outskirts of Atlanta after we found my grandparents' place overrun by those things. My grandparents must have figured we would have come to find them when all this shi- um- stuff starting happening," He caught himself bashfully, "so they –well, at least I think it was them—they left a sign on the garage door just saying 'Brent's'. That's my uncle, so Dad decided we'd be best off going to his brother's house to find my grandparents if they made it through all this. We'd made it this far I think about three days ago, when there was this giant group of those monsters that showed up from everywhere. So we ran trying to get away and my mom got separated from us."

He got really quiet for a moment and I heard something suspiciously like a sniffle before he renewed his story with forced bravado.

"My dad and I made it to this truck before we actually realized she wasn't still behind us. So Dad ordered me to get in here and said that he'd be right back after he got Mom," he lapsed into silence again. "I tried to open up the door and get out to help him…help them, but it had locked. And it got real loud outside, so I tried to cover my ears and block out their groaning since there wasn't anything I could do…but I still heard them. And I heard when it got quiet again, when those things moved on, and nobody came to find me. I was so relieved when you showed up and weren't here to kill me."

Before I could respond, I heard the reason for Faline's unease before we had entered the truck. An immense boom of thunder pretty well shook the truck from the ground up, and not even a minute later, after Sophia had woken with a scream and shuffled to find me in the dark –and Daniel did similarly while having the teenage need to make it seem nonchalant and for the comfort of the smaller child—there was a sound like someone had just dumped a great bucket of water over us. This was going to be a long night.


	5. Dear Dixon

**Longest chapter so far, coming in just a smidge under 3,000 words. And its a chapter a good few of you have been waiting for. I'm saying a little prayer to my writing gods right now that I've done him some kind of justice. Now, even more than before, I'm asking for some serious critique. Let me know if you like how this one's done...hate it?...want more of it?**

**Thanks again to Demonic Hope: At least one of the horses in this chapter was an endurance horse (Arabian *cough*Captain*cough*, though in the speaking perspective there's much less detail) so I like to think that's how she's picked up on it. And I hope this chapter resolves at least one of the issues.**

**Nelle07, I'm so glad you're liking it. We should be inching up to fewer flashbacks. However, my writings kind of force me to be non-linear if I want to stay interested and invested in telling a story.**

**I'll be attempting to keep my posts coming each weekday (M-F) before 4:30pm CST. This is a rough estimate as I have classes and am still getting back into the swing of things.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Daryl Dixon was not someone to get sentimental –that was something that could get you killed— but when he reached into his pack to grab the canteen he'd filled before leaving the farm he couldn't really help it. He pulled out the little black stone that his hand had brushed and examined it carefully. This pack had sat unused in the corner of his closet for the longest time until the walkers had come stumbling through the neighborhood and his neighbors began screaming as undead teeth ripped into flesh. After shaking his brother viciously from his drunken stupor on the couch, Daryl had made a mad dash through the trailer to gather everything he could conceive as being helpful and stuffed it into four packs that wouldn't slow them down as they tried escaping the chaos quickly encompassing them. This bag was the last he'd found, and he wasn't even sure why he'd hung onto it as long as he had. It had been slung on his back the day he walked out of his high school, hand raised high behind him with a single finger salute to the teachers and students that had made his life hell and kept him from being able to care for himself full time; that same afternoon he'd thrown out the papers and other schoolish miscellany from the main compartment and tossed the bag aside before heading out to work the second shift at the warehouse where Merle's old running buddy had offered him a job.<p>

There were small divots where an old tool had shaped the rock like a tiny Christmas tree, a small triangle with a rectangular base that pinched inward as it met the body. Looking at it, rotating it in his hand, Daryl found himself glad he hadn't touched the front pouch of the bag, and thinking back to how he came to own the uncommon article something told him they might just stand a chance at finding Carol's little girl.

He urged the borrowed horse forward and had to steady himself having ridden a grand total of three times including that day; he was much more accustomed to his mechanical steed than this large, strong animal he was entrusting his life to.

'Don't be a pussy, Dixon,' He mentally chastised himself as he considered climbing off and taking up the search on foot. Maneuvering a big beast like that through the woods would probably slow him down anyway; plus, what if it decided just to plop down and roll over on him? He'd be crushed. The horse twitched beneath him, ridding itself of the flies that had taken position on its muscled neck. 'He ain't gonna hurt you.'

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><p>"He ain't gonna hurt you," The teen assured Daryl as the horse was led to the step Daryl stood upon uncomfortably. His stepmother, Dawn, had talked him into going with these two kids because they were closer to his age than all the adults in the house. She said it would be good for him to be around someone besides his brother –especially since he would be spending Christmas locked up for his latest escapades. Dawn also mentioned it would be a nice gesture to help with chores since the family had been so nice to give them a reprieve from his father –who was probably sharing a cell with Merle as far as Daryl knew.<p>

"Yeah," The little girl added to the end of her brother's statement. She beamed up at him –already shorter than him from age difference, she was tiny from his place on the step- as she walked the horse a bit closer to allow Daryl an easier mount. "He's the nicest horse Gramps has. He'd hardly hurt a fly. Hop on!"

"You sure?" Daryl asked, trying to hide the anxiety bubbling up from the pit of his stomach. This wasn't a way for a sixteen-year-old to feel. He had driven his dad's truck hundreds of times, even when his feet could hardly reach the pedals, and he could do much more damage to himself if something went wrong with that. He looked from the horse, to the girl, to her brother, and back before taking a deep breath.

"C'mon, it's simple. Just up," The boy hooked a foot into the stirrup on the saddle of a handsome chestnut horse and hefted himself up, "and over," he swung the leg not caught in the stirrup over, bracing slightly on the back and horn of the saddle before slipping into place with reins in hand. Daryl mirrored as he was shown and came down harder than he meant to, knocking the wind out of himself and groaning in strangled pain. "Oh, right… meant to tell you to come down easy."

The girl hid a giggle –though not well— as she skipped over to short, paint-coated horse that was obviously rather young and lifted herself on with surprising ease. She brought herself to a stop beside the teen who was holding the reins awkwardly, though luckily the horse they had placed him on was well-ridden enough the new rider didn't phase him.

"You gotta hold 'em like this," She raised her hand and rotated so he could see the proper hold. He copied. "Alright, now when you want to go, you just give him a little tap with your heels; just a little pressure'll do."

She demonstrated, tapping and moving toward the barn door, stopping, turning, and waiting for him to do the same. He bounced a bit as the horse acquiesced, and he grimaced again, tensing to try to shift for comfort.

"It'll probably be better if you kinda keep some of your weight on the balls of your feet in the stirrups. Just lift yourself a bit, so when he bumps around you don't," The other teen advised. "Now when you want to go right, pull your reins like this."

The brief riding lesson was finished after Daryl showed he could at least get through the basics, and they all agreed it would be a short, simple ride just to get the horses out of the barn. The three wrapped their coats a bit tighter as they went out into the brisk air. Daryl could see the foot prints they'd left in the dusting of snow that was shaded by the tree. That sight made it feel more Christmas-y than the rest of the gloomy, cold December weather that had been more rain than anything frosty. Maybe being at Dawn's friends' home for the holiday _would _make it nicer after all.

"Liam! Fiona! Daryl! Lunch is almost ready, come on inside and wash up!" The elder woman of the house called out from the deck. The three young people all turned their head at the call, but Liam was the one to call back.

"Be in soon Grandma!" He assured before rounding on the other two with a crazy smile and a hoot of laughter. "Race ya back!"

Daryl wasn't sure what to think of the two siblings. They complemented each others personalities; Liam was a joker and spent most of the ride trying to come up with something to make their companion laugh –which started to grate on Daryl's nerves mid-way through the trek— and Fiona was an inquisitive mind, asking just about every question that could conceivably be asked by a ten-year-old. Daryl was actually rather thankful to be headed back to the house where he could excuse himself to the guestroom for alone time. Outside of school, Daryl wasn't fond of being around many people for any real extent of time, it wore down his nerves and made him get a temper much like his father's; he hated being put in that mindset.

Liam already had his horse unsaddled, blanketed, and put in a stall by the time Daryl trotted into the barn. Fiona brought up the rear, blaming it on her young steed when Liam threw a teasing comment her way, but had made a conscious effort to keep behind their new friend should something happen; she remembered how strange it was her first time riding. It worked well that Liam had been first though, he was able to help ready Captain, the horse Daryl had ridden, for being in his stall while Fiona did so for the paint.

The three made it back to the house in time to wash hands before lunch hit the table, and Daryl shoveled down the delicious food, tempted to have seconds but choosing instead to shuffle off to the guestroom with a quick thanks to Miss Mae –Liam and Fiona's grandmother— for the meal. Dawn peeked in to the guestroom after the window had grown dark, knowing she had asked a good deal of her stepson that morning when she'd persuaded him to be social and gave him plenty of time to himself before announcing dinner; Mae's grandkids had been asking her about Daryl all day, and at that time she had pretty well run out of excuses for his absence from the festive activities throughout the house. Daryl had spent most of the afternoon avoiding the holiday merriment to catch up on sleep he hadn't gotten while waiting for his brother to turn up at home; for all his faults, Merle Dixon was one of the only people Daryl would lose sleep worrying over, and at least now he knew his brother was safe and alive, even if it was in a jail cell again.

"Daryl," His stepmother called quietly from the doorway. She had a sweet face that matched the woman's disposition, and Daryl wondered how his father had ever convinced this woman to marry him and accept his heathen kids like they were her own. "Eleanor and Joe made a Christmas dinner that's almost ready. You wanna maybe come out and join us for a bit?"

"Sure," He threw her a bone. It was Christmas after-all. She'd been awful chipper about that since they'd moved past the ridicule known as Thanksgiving that year. It was hard him to enjoy a holiday when your family relied solely on hand-outs from other families; just that thought left a bad taste in Daryl's mouth. This dinner did the opposite. Sitting with these smiling, chatty people, Daryl didn't feel like he was being handed a meal and he wasn't about to let that thought sink into his brain. The sweet ham and warm rolls helped ward off any less than optimistic thoughts. When everyone had stuffed themselves full of the delicious spread they piled on a serving of warm red velvet cake that Fiona proudly announced she had helped to make and decorate –it had white icing with a rough green tree design that featured multicolored gumdrops— with a sheepish grin, avoiding looking directly toward Daryl. It, too, was delicious.

After dinner, a Monopoly board was produced, and everyone joined in the game, Fiona playing as a team with her father, and Daryl only agreeing to play after Dawn sent him a pleading look. When Fiona began to nod off on her father's arm, Sean swept his daughter up and put her to bed mentioning it was probably about time Liam went the same direction.

"Goodnight, Merry Christmas!" Liam bid cheerily, catching the clock chiming midnight. He celebrated being the first to say it with a spastic dance down the hall, striking a ridiculous pose at the door to his room and then leaping into bed. Daryl shook his head, eyes wide, with a look at Dawn as if to say 'Really?' He couldn't remember a time in his life, even as a child, that he'd been that happy about Christmas.

When the sun rose there was a loud din in the house as Fiona's laughter filled the air. Having been the first one asleep, she was the first and only one up, but she wasn't going to let that be the case for long.

"Presents! Time for presents!" She called, running first to Liam's doorway, hitting her grandparents' room next, followed by her parents' making sure they were all stirring before moving on, and finally she crept up to the closed guestroom. She knocked first, not being related or familiar with these people, but knowing they should be included in the present opening. She spoke into the corner where the door met the frame, creating a muffled, barely understandable: "You guys, it's time for presents."

The fifteen minutes it took for everyone to gather around the tree with their coffees and tired eyes were beyond frustrating to Fiona, who sat anxiously on her hands so as not to jump the gun. She was fidgeting to do something when her mom, Allison, suggested she pass out the presents if she wanted something to do so badly. Fiona squealed at the idea and took to rooting around beneath the tree to pull out the gorgeously wrapped gifts and distribute them.

"Ho, ho, ho," she chanted as she brought the last armful –two larger packages and a small, haphazardly wrapped one— to their guests. "Miss Dawn," she spoke handing the largest of the three to the ebony-haired woman who beamed at her with teary eyes. "And these are for you Daryl."

She scampered back to her pile of gifts before he could react to _actually_ getting presents from these people who hadn't known him from Bob before dinner two days before; he knew Dawn hadn't had the resources to provide anything more than the necessities. He glanced at Dawn, who had carefully torn away the paper on her present, peeled the tape away from the large box, and pulled out a nice, thick quilt. She ran her hands over the fabric before dabbing at her eyes; Daryl hadn't seen his dad get her any kind of gift in the few years they'd been together, and it had never crossed his mind to give her any sort of gift –she wasn't his mom. Daryl felt ashamed for a moment, but put that feeling to the side as he returned to his large present. The rush of tearing away the paper was new, and he liked it. Even more, he liked the new pair of quality boots and the forest print jacket with reflective shoulders.

"Dawn, that's not all, take another look in the box," Mae prodded, brushing the woman's shoulder gently. Dawn gasped as she reached in and hefted out a sewing machine that looked twenty years younger than the one Daryl had seen her using to stitch the seams he managed to tear on his shirts and pants.

"And Daryl, we sorta ball-parked the shoe size, you let us know if we need to exchange 'em. We weren't sure what else you'd want besides hunting gear," Robert, a weather old man that Daryl found he got along with really well since he was a fan of hunting too. Daryl thanked the man as he pulled on one of the boots and stood excited to see how it fit. Standing sent the little package he'd forgotten about in his excitement tumbling to the floor, and he felt bad when he saw Fiona's face fall before she hid herself in a book of horses she'd just pried open; at least the boots felt like they were made just for him.

"They're perfect," Daryl said sliding it back off and shaking Robert's hand in thanks. "Perfect," he repeated. When he sat back down he had to search for the poorly wrapped parcel under a pile of wrapping paper, but he pulled it out victoriously and opened it with less gusto than the bigger gift, trying not to let it slip out of his hands. Peeling the paper back, Daryl revealed a shiny black stone, shaped like a small Christmas tree, with little divots speckled across the faces of the stone. It was actually really cool; he'd only seen this stuff in the pictures of the history books at school.

"It's an arrowhead," Fiona explained, though he didn't necessarily need to be told. "I found that one at my aunt's in Oregon. I thought you'd like it since you said you use a bow for hunting."

Daryl didn't know what to say. People hardly ever actually listened to what he said. Sure, Dawn knew he liked to go hunting, but that's 'cause he and Merle –and sometimes their father if luck wasn't particularly fond of them— would disappear for a weekend, but otherwise people usually just nodded politely whenever he decided to attempt socialization. Looking back at the stone in his hand he couldn't help another smile. Maybe things would be alright, maybe one great Christmas would turn things around.

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><p>Daryl snorted thinking back to that time. That little girl reminded him a lot of Sophia, bright eyed, extra observant, and awful nice even if you tried staying away from her. He wondered if that little girl –<em>'woman by now'<em> he corrected— had survived so far, wondered if her brother had looked after his little sibling like it was supposed to be, and then he pushed it out of his mind.

"Best focus on one at a time Dixon. Let's go find this little girl," He spoke first to himself and then to the animal beneath him who flinched his ears back before kicking into gear full speed ahead. Daryl cussed loudly before remembering to balance himself upon the balls of his feet in the stirrups, pushing himself up from the saddle a bit. He would _find_ her, not for her mother, not for the group, but for him. If that little girl could survive this long with those walkers, just maybe…


	6. For the If in Life, Maybe

**Thanks to Tanya (I'm happy to hear that you're craving more) and Demonic Hope (I've only been able to study pictures of Arabs, so I couldn't exactly accurately give Captain the personality, but if he turns up again I'll see what I can do. As far as the rest of your review, I think you'll like where I'm going, even if DD is yours. ;] )**

**It's rather short, and it still jumps around a bit (I promise I'm trying to move past the flashbacks, haha!), but it's a daily post that went well in my head and fulfills my promise of at least 1,000 a day. I hope you all enjoy!**

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><p>Fiona woke with a start hearing a voice yelling her name, only to realize that voice had been back in her dreams. She didn't have to think back on the images that had left her tossing and turning through the rainy, stuffy night to know what memories had pervaded her sleeping thoughts. Her heart ached, and she allowed a moment, while the two humans sharing the truck were still unaware of the waking world, to let loose some of that sorrow. It felt good to breathe deep, grimace, and feel the moisture spring forth in my eyes and travel down my face. It felt better to know I didn't have to move right away to avoid some hungry corpse, that I could sit and move through this, and that I could refocus on the last time I'd seen Liam.<p>

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><p>"Right, so, on three then?" He asked glancing over at me. Atlanta had been a terrible idea. We hadn't gotten anywhere near the CDC that Liam had been so sure about, but instead we were being slowly backed into a corner by the geeks. Faline, for all she was worth, was trying her best not to fidget or bolt under me, settling for turning slowly trying to eyeball a safe route. Boromir was not as steady under Liam; he was itching to take a run at the monsters. He'd proven himself a couple times since the world had gone to hell, swinging his heavy hooves down on those in front of him and kicking those behind him to pieces. His dirt dusted coat twitched here and there as he fought the urge to move before my brother gave the word.<p>

"Where?" I asked, pulling Faline tighter toward the wall behind us and feeling the start of vomit building. We were down to no room. I tightened my grip on the hatchet in my right hand and the reins in my left. We'd get out of here or die trying; I, like Liam, wasn't going to sit here and wait.

"We'll just go. Do what you have to in order to get away from them," Boromir lurched forward and caught Liam off guard, but he quickly raised and swung the bat he'd taken to using, halting a particularly close teething corpse. "Let's plan to meet up at the bridge we passed coming into town!"

I pressed for Faline to move forward, to run, but she balked for a second, turning in a circle to be sure there was no other option. Seeing none, she turned once more and kicked off. Liam was ahead of us, Boromir rearing and bringing down a couple of the bodies –obliterating the rotting skull of one— and Liam swung the bat again, clearing a small radius as they moved that closed quickly behind them. The good thing about them going first was they took a good deal of the attention off Faline and I as we moved forward; I swung my hatchet to take out only those closest, but Faline put her efforts into propelling us forward faster.

"I love you, Sis!" I heard ahead as Liam moved right to the edge of my earshot in all the gurgling, grumbling, and moaning surrounding us. I watched in horror as they rounded the corner out of my sight. His yell had drawn what attention was left not already on us, making the clearer end of the street accessible to me and Faline.

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><p>I shook myself out of the memory, wiping away the tears I'd let free. I didn't want to think of that horde that had piled up half way down the street down which he'd fled, the horde that had been writhing and pulling and chewing at something, and I had had to hold on for dear life as Faline continued on for both our sakes.<p>

"Are you ok?" Sophia whispered right by my shoulder, offering me a weak hug, and nearly scaring the crap out of me. I sniffled and wiped a little more at my eyes.

"Yeah, thanks," I said with an unconvincing crack in my voice. Faline was watching me closely, and worked to get on her feet when I moved to open the truck door. Hatchet in hand, I knelt down to peek out and check for any danger before throwing the door up and jumping out to breathe open air again. Being outside threw the stuffiness of the truck into brilliant contrast, even with the muggy humidity from the overnight storms. I helped Sophia out of the truck as Daniel started to show signs of waking up.

"I need to…go," Sophia said after I'd let down the ramp for Faline to exit, tugging my arm gently and crossing her legs for emphasis.

"Oh," I said, uncertain. "Oh right." We couldn't leave this little girl out helpless. I mentally clapped my palm to my face. When we found a decently safe looking spot we both did what we had to, cutting short when there was an odd shuffling out a ways in the trees. We high-tailed it back to the truck, Faline joining with a similar pace, and we found Daniel sitting in the doorway.

"G'morning," He mumbled trying to sound cheery despite the sleepiness. "What's the plan?" He stretched and stood before returning his eyes to me. I was struck for a moment not knowing how to answer. Sophia and I were too much for Faline as it was, so three people was beyond out of the question; that would leave us all on foot. Fort Binning would take a while at that speed. However, I couldn't very well leave a kid on his own facing this world, not in good conscience. Plus, having him travel with us would be another set of useful hands if things got tight, more eyes to see danger, and an able body to secure somewhere for the night.

'He's a kid who's lost his parents, what could the danger really be in letting him tag along until we find somewhere safer?' I thought to myself before nodding in agreement with myself.

"Well, I suppose we'll be spending the day traveling that way," I pointed away from the sun rise, "and cover as much ground toward Fort Binning as possible."

With that we rounded up gear, Daniel offering to take the heavier bag, and took a few moments to scavenge for anything useful in the cars closest to us. As the sun inched higher in the sky, I found myself hoping to live to see winter. The southern summer had been entirely too hot, and the start of autumn was just creeping in and keeping it from reaching the nineties for the majority of the day, but I longed for the cold; it would make this running everywhere much less…uncomfortable. If I could make it to winter, if I could make it to winter _and_ find somewhere safe with shelter from those things and the weather, then maybe I could survive. Maybe Sophia's people were still out there, and maybe they would have an idea in case Binning fell through. Just maybe.


	7. Cameras

Had the traffic cameras in Atlanta still been working, the power grid not downed, the recording stations not destroyed from looters and walkers, they would have caught the strangest sights the last three weeks.

Corpses of those killed by strange fevers brought by rotting teeth, rose from the dead.

People were torn apart at the seams like ragged teddy bears tossed to vicious pack dogs at the hands and teeth of those corpses.

The undead began moving as one, stumbling, staggering body toward the quickly disappearing movements of the rare living soul.

The walkers lost any preference they may have started with, tearing into the flesh of a horse that had brought an office into the plagued city.

Some strong survivors came and went only to come again, rather unscathed by it all.

And the traffic camera sitting lonely on the traffic light post at Spring and Pine would have caught a pair speeding out of the city like a bat out of hell, rounding the corner at a breakneck pace to cross the interstate jam-packed with deserted cars. It would have seen the man, muscled and dirty with dishwater hair, swing a bat with stunning precision and drop a stumbling corpse in a flash. His partner, stocky and dirty-blue-gray, pumped his legs furiously to achieve their blazing speed. There was a wild look about the two, bent on survival, that would have frightened any regular person on first sight, but there was no one to see; not even the traffic cameras saw, instead sitting blind, unknowing, dead.


	8. Manna from Heaven

**I apologize for the shortness and filler qualities of this chapter, but the procrastinator within me extremely underestimated an essay project for one of my classes. It took up most of yesterday, and I've still got enough work to last me through until the due date this Sunday. So I'll try to budget my time more efficiently between now and then to get back on track with posting proper material.**

**In happier news, thanks to TripleLLL (I'm very glad to hear you liked 'Cameras', I wasn't sure how that was going to work out. And I'm hoping I can make Daniel work out in the long run, I've got a few ideas that are wrestling around about what to use him for) and Demonic Hope (I like Liam's horse too much to bump him off within the first few chapters). Hope to hear more from you both as we get the ball rolling a bit faster coming up.**

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><p>"Fiona! Look what we found!"<p>

We had been traveling slowly for two days. The sun had been un-clouded, the temperature still hadn't been reaching its wicked highs –inching closer to the depth of fall each day, the food supply was dwindling, but I was finding my two younger companions to be good company, and helpful too! This morning brought Daniel practically skipping back from the trail of cars he had set off to scavenge.

It was a sight to see him smiling; were the population of our world not in complete question I would bet he had been a heartbreaker with the ladies. He sure had Faline and Sophia wrapped around his finger. They had both followed him carefully, staying in my sight as we took opposite sides of the road to search cars, and Sophia asked him a bunch of quiet questions about what his life had been like before all the craziness.

Now the three were back in front of me, Sophia perched on Faline's back with a bulging pack of newfound foods and supplies, and Daniel was cradling the machete I'd lent him in the crook of his arm to free his hands for maybe twenty aluminum coated gifts from above that caused saliva to spring forth. Sure, they were a little disfigured from sitting in a car in the heat that had burdened the place for the past three weeks, but it was such a delicacy I wasn't going to complain. Chocolates were some of the first things that people had cleared from the shelves in the looted stores, which made me laugh since it held no use as far as true survival went, but now it was ridiculously hard to find these treats; these two kids were offering to share them with me when they could have very well shoveled them away and I wouldn't have been any wiser. My eyes widened as I looked from his hands to his face before mirroring his brilliant smile.

"I actually found them," Sophia stated with a matter-of-fact tone, "but I couldn't get down, so I had to have Daniel grab them. I nodded swinging my own pack around and pulling out a small tin box that could hold the precious chocolates apart from anything that may damage them.

"You guys are an awesome team. How about we each have one for now, put the rest away, and maybe have another each for dessert?" I suggested, pulling three from the bowl of Daniel's hands and holding the tin out for him to deposit the rest. They chimed their agreement, stuffed the tin in the front pouch of the pack in Sophia's care, and we shared a moment of bliss as we savored our small serving of soft, sweet chocolate. Today was looking promising.

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><p>That little girl had definitely been in the woods, and there was no sign that Daryl Dixon could find that suggested she had been harmed. Sure, he had found her teddy bear in the small stream near where Rick said he'd placed her before instructing her to head back to the highway, but Daryl had combed that whole section of the woods on the way out and found not a bit of spilled blood, no child-sized remains, and certainly no child walkers. Inside a little shack a small distance from the roadway in thick woods he had found a small nook where someone had piled a blanket and stale crackers were opened with a couple missing. On the wall in this little cubby were three little notches, if Sophia had been staying here, he had just missed her. He had lashed out at the little knickknacks on the counter in anger. If he had set out this way a day sooner, he'd be bringing that kid back to her mom safe and sound that day. Why hadn't she just stayed put anyway?<p>

'_Woods ain't safe for little city girls,'_ Daryl told himself as a way to spur him into further action. Instead of taking his frustrations out on the rest of the abandoned house, he took to searching further from the road, trying to find anything to point him in the right direction.


	9. Quiet Town, My Left Leg

**I would very much like to apologize for my extended absence from uploading chapters. A nasty case of writer's block, stress from my lovely college courses, and attempting to arrange an awesome weekend are all excuses I could give, but I'll try not to push it that direction. Instead I will just try to make it up with a decently lengthy chapter that will help us get back on track with where we are in relation to the timeline.**

**Thanks to my reviewers: SJC -glad you like Fiona, I'm trying to keep her as something readers can enjoy; Demonic Hope -Quite pleased that my filler didn't drive you off. **

**Also, expect some more Daryl in tomorrow's post, as I get to meet the man behind the squirrel slayer tomorrow. (Here's hoping I don't make a spaz of myself).**

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><p>Two days. Two whole days we had traveled down the interstate, taking shelter each night in vehicles we thought looked safe enough for at least a few hours sleep for each of us, snagging anything we thought we could use from the cars we didn't want to stay in –broken windows and decaying bodies were pretty much the only disqualifiers, and trying not to let the late summer sun take its toll. What I wouldn't give for it to be winter already. The only way I'd survived southern summers most of my life was by staying inside during the hottest part of the day, or taking a dip in my grandparents' pool; there weren't so many luxuries now. Sure, I could go in somewhere, get into the shade, but it's not quite the same as hearing that familiar hum and the artificial air from a conditioning unit shifting the temperature down about twenty degrees. What I wouldn't give for a good ten minutes of working air conditioning.<p>

I wiped my head across my forehead, giving a small bit of relief from the constant state between solid and liquid; for a moment I was solid again able to feel the slow breeze directly on my skin instead of through a coating of slimy, grimy, dripping sweat, and then it returned as we walked on. I felt like goo, hardly keeping my shape, plopping along with two goo children, and a horse that was slowly getting fussy from staying on the blacktop road ninety percent of our days. Sophia told us with all the good intentions of a child giving hope of what may still be out there about the shower she had had at the CDC, how it still had hot water, and she couldn't wait to find some other place –with the rest of her group probably there already, waiting with open arms— that could offer such amenities. Her story only threw the desire for a nice, hot, cleansing shower in with the air conditioning. I'd been able to power through my disgust over my hygiene so far, solely by reminding myself that I was not lacking the skin to wash, or the living thought-process to perform such a function if I ever did meet a safe shower again; at least I was alive, but at moments like that, when there were no walkers to directly contrast with, I allowed a time of abhorrent thoughts of the dirt –and probably blood—under my nails, the days upon days of sweat that had soaked into my shirt, the debris that was probably still caught in my hair from taking a tumble on one of the last days I'd been with my brother. I needed air conditioning, a shower, and a brush.

"Hey, Fiona?" Sophia asked from her perch on Faline's back. I hummed in response, waiting for her to continue. "What do you think the chances are of us finding shoes in these cars?" I swung around to look at her briefly, with a bemused expression.

"You got a hot date you need new shoes for Miss Sophia?" I teased. I was pretty sure we weren't likely to find many shoes, and certainly not too many that would fit her small limbs. She giggled before shaking her head.

"No, no. Well, I was looking at my feet and…I don't know how it happened, but I guess while we were walking before my turn up here, I managed to do this," She threw her right foot over while trying to keep her balance to show me the gaping hole between the base of rubber and the upper materials of her shoe. They weren't shoes that were meant for heavy use to begin with, but when you add trekking as much as she had before I met her, along with the ridiculous amount of foot work we'd been putting in, her shoes were quickly falling apart. Having had an older brother that liked to play pranks like snagging my shoes while we were swimming down in the creek so I had to run after him through the woodsy brush, I knew that many people underestimated the importance of the shoes they took for granted. I also realized we'd have to find this kid some new shoes before they became a hazard to our group's safety. I knew I wasn't the kind of person who could let a child trip and leave them for geek-chow, but there was no need to welcome that situation.

"I don't think we'll find any in the cars, but maybe we can make it to that town," I gestured to the road sign telling us the upcoming exit would lead somewhere a couple miles down the road. "I'll bet they have somewhere that sells shoes, and maybe there won't be too many walkers."

I was right about the walkers, when we got into the little town –tiny really, hardly a blip on the map even when there had been living people, I'm sure— the streets were bare. There was a quaint tavern, a cute pharmacy –run by people who looked after others until their very end if the sign 'Take what you need. God bless.' was anything to go by— and other stores of necessity, including a mom and pop clothing shop. I thanked any higher power that would hear me for our stroke of luck, as we shuffled slowly inside. Daniel had gotten pretty good with swinging the machete, so he was off on a mission to my left to make a sweep of the place for safety. I branched right to speed things along with my hatchet, and Faline stood alert beside Sophia, creating a barrier between her and anything that could jump out at them. In the store, there were only two walkers, lumbering around the stock room, trying to push open the back door with their bodies; Daniel and I noted the door was bolted after we dispatched the two of them with ease. That was a relief to only have to watch from the one direction while we stocked up on new, clean clothing that had gone mostly untouched during the outbreak. This small town seems to have kept better composure than the places I'd been through so far.

"Alright, store's clear," Daniel confirmed as he met back up with us at the front door. I nodded agreement before pulling out a couple of the apples I'd snagged a few days ago at a darkened grocery store and offered them to Faline. They needed to get eaten before they went to waste. She made a sound of appreciation as we split off to find various things in the store. Daniel murmured something about a hat to keep the sun from blistering his face that I waved on, and Sophia and I went in search of her size shoe that would hold up to all the activity. An hour later found Sophia in a nice pair of boots that laced tight, helped keep out water, and would allow for quick movement; I snagged a similar pair, since the pair I'd thrown on escaping from my house had a few years to them to begin with, and broke down to finding a pair of jeans that would fit without zip-ties between the belt-loops. A twelve fit like a glove, and I shot myself a grin in the dressing room mirror; little joys were what kept us going in this world.

"Nice hat," I chuckled when I rejoined the group that had taken to an opened area in the middle of the store that had been intended as a place to try on shoes. It kept us obscured from the road out front while not completely blocking us from a quick escape if anything were to happen. Daniel was adjusting a light, tightly woven, straw rancher hat that made him look similar to my grandpa. He stuck his tongue out at me.

"I figured it'd keep the sun off my face while not keeping too much heat on my head. It's hot enough out there without helping it along," He reasoned, sliding the hat off his head and putting it to the side. He'd also thrown on a new pair of pants that didn't have the holes his others sported, and a shirt that would suit the hot weather and direct sun better than his black shirt had. It was a funny sight –as I'm sure I looked similar— to see new clothes on our grimy skin.

"I like his hat," Sophia chimed, sticking a pretzel in her mouth after she spoke, and putting all her attention on chewing. She'd found clothing that fit her well, stuff that wouldn't catch on branches or trip up her new boots, so she had been able to change out of her stained and torn outfit. We looked like different people.

"Oh I'm just giving you a hard time. It's perfect Daniel," He beamed when I said so, and twiddled with the brim still sitting on the bench. "So, it's starting to get a bit dark out, if you hadn't noticed," We had, the store's power was out, so we were subject to the light streaming in through the open front windows, which was steadily dipping into the twilight.

"Yeah, Sophia and I thought we might do best just to set up here for the night. Just in case. We don't want to run into any of those things in the dark," Daniel said, mirroring my own thoughts. I nodded looking between the two of them.

"I've just got to take Faline out to do her thing," I said, turning for the front door. "You guys see what you can rustle up as far as cushioning and blankets. Don't leave the store," I spoke quietly before I reached the front door, not wanting to call any attention to us if there were the random walkers around. I walked Faline out to the side of the building where I'd seen a decent patch of grass before we'd come in and let her do what she had to. I was busy watching the direction we hadn't come from, hadn't checked, so I didn't notice the change in the direction we'd entered. Had I been paying attention the other way, I might have noticed the new car that sat near to the tavern, but I wasn't. I locked the front door behind me when Faline and I reentered the store, and we joined the kids on the pallet of mix-and-match soft clothing pieces. Well, I joined them on it, and Faline found herself a comfortable position not far to the side.

The long trip and excitement of new clothes made it an early night for us after I divvied up evening food stuffs and passed around a can opener. Everyone drifted to sleep quickly and found a comfortable, sound sleep for a while, until we heard the gunshots and the yelling. Faline jumped in her skin, but stayed down close by at my 'shush' and quick hand on her nose. Sophia was wrapped around me in a millisecond, and I had to snag Daniel's collar before he went away swinging the machete. Whatever was going on, it was too dark for anyone to know we were in here without us letting them know. The same went for walkers, if that's what was causing the ruckus from other survivors; they wouldn't know we were here unless we went making ourselves known. We were safe here from whatever was going on, and I tried to convey that idea as I pulled Daniel back onto his butt and popped a finger over my lips.

The gunshots ushered in silence for a moment, before we heard muffled human voices hollering a conversation, another break, more gunfire, a couple engines start up, then the horrid screaming –where I had to catch Daniel again, and hold tight before he gave in and joined our huddled mass where Sophia was nearly sobbing into my shoulder. Finally, the yelling died and the engines faded into the distance, but now I could hear the distinct sounds of the moaning and groaning and gnashing of teeth in dead jaws. All four of us spent the night in silence, and hoped –though mine was only dim— that we would have a clear way out tomorrow. That wasn't likely until something else caught the attention of the walkers outside, and who knew when that would likely happen. I don't know, maybe this little town sees action like today on a regular basis.


	10. Daddy?

**Shoo! Holy moses, this chapter idea smacked me in the face like a brick this morning, and I'm really hoping you guys like it. Let me know with a little thing called a review.**

**Thanks to those ahead of the game and reviewing already: Demonic Hope -still trying to work out the kinks of how Faline's getting food, we'll see if I can find a smooth enough way to work around it; Nelle07 -yes indeed, just trying to reinforce that they're all existing in this same little universe and letting us know about where we sit along the timeline; drummerchick06 -thanks for that fantastic compliment, I'm slowly but surely trying to weasel him in there more throughout, but fret not, he's definitely a main player (especially in this chapter!).**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>It was positively killing Daryl to sit in his tent with those hens constantly checking in on him and clucking around about how sorry they were that Andrea nicked his temple. He wasn't dead. Hell, he wasn't even bedridden if they'd just let him get up and get back to looking for Carol's little girl. Didn't they realize that every moment they kept gingerly bullying him back into his tent –like he was going to shatter right then and there with on off touch— was just another minute that child was out there with no one looking after her? Every day he wasn't able to get further from the farm looking for her was another day she'd probably cry out for her mom, shit probably even her good-for-nothing dad, <em>somebody<em> to find her and help keep her safe from those monsters.

Daryl swung angrily at the slick siding of the tent, the bright blue mocking him as it swished with the movement of his action and caused him to tumble down with his excess force. A string of curses left him as his side punished him with stings of fire flaring out from where his own arrow had punctured him.

'_Damned horse,' _He thought maliciously picturing some gruesome fate for the four-legged beast that had practically tossed him down that ravine, _'If it weren't for you and your damned nerves I'd still be out there. If she's dead it's your fault.' _He chided himself after that thought. The horse hadn't been the one to let that little girl hide on her own, nor had the horse abandoned her in the woods expecting her to know the way back. No, the horse had only been acting to save himself from some unseen danger. Daryl couldn't fault the animal at that, because then he'd have to turn a more judging eye on himself, and the only way he was getting by was not dwelling on what he'd done.

"Get outta here woman, I don't need no more of your prodding fingers or any'uh that gruel they're callin' food up there," He snapped as he saw Carol toting a plate of God-knows-what and the kit Hershel kept sending with whatever hen volunteered to put up with his attitude and redress his wounds. He pushed aside his shame to keep a stony face when Carol let her hurt show; sure, he hadn't meant to lash out at her, but he sure as hell wasn't going to keep being babied. He wanted out of this camp, off the farm land, and back to searching for little blond Sophia. Carol was already half-way back to the farmhouse before Daryl thought it might be better to apologize to the poor woman. He knew how she must be feeling.

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><p>"Merle! Merle!" Daryl called, shaking his brother out of a drunken stupor on the couch where he'd passed out in the wee hours of the morning. There wasn't much time to deal with easing him awake with coffee and dry toast like most Saturday mornings; he had to get up and move. Daryl punched his older brother's arm and darted back to avoid the swings as Merle rose up and shook himself awake to strike back at his enemy. "Get up, you ass. If you're still gonna sleep, take it in the bedroom. Allison's almost here."<p>

"Ah, got a little weekend special comin' over, little brother? You sure I should crash in the bedroom, won't you be needin' that?" Merle raised his eyebrows suggestively, sparking more frustration in the younger man, but Daryl held back and responded through clenched teeth.

"Allison's dropping off Sadie," He waited for some recognition to dawn on his brother, but he was apparently later coming home than Daryl thought and still suffering from a drunken fog. "It's my Saturday, Merle. I can't have Allison come in with this place looking like a dump and your drunken ass crashed on the couch. I _just_ got her to agree to let me have a regular day with Sadie."

Merle had already waved his brother off as he bumbled to the bedroom, making a pit stop at the bathroom beforehand. Daryl tried to cool his frustration as he picked up the living room and kitchen, anxiously glancing at the clock until he heard the tires disturb the gravel drive out front. He straightened himself inside the trailer as he gave them time to unpack from the car before going out to greet them. He'd been waiting for this day for far too long.

"Daddy!" A little blonde blur rocketed from the backseat as soon as the buckle on the child seat was undone and crashed into Daryl's left leg, knocking him back a pace before her lifted his assailant into the air. Giggles escaped the child as she was swung high above the ground and brought to hug him.

"Hey kid, how are ya?" Daryl couldn't stop the coo as he held her close. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Daddy. Look what I brought for you!" She wiggled in his arms, digging into her tiny pockets with her dainty hands and producing a folded piece of paper. She spread it out, using his chest to flatten it before turning it so he could examine the picture. She had drawn –though roughly as she was just coming into her art skills- a big tree at the center of the page, to the right the green grass dropped into a big blue blob, two figures were on the grass hold sticks in the air with lines connecting them to the blue, one was very short and covered in pink scribbles, the other very tall and covered in brown. "It's us!" She squealed.

"That's beautiful Miss Sadie. Where'd you learn to draw like that?" He asked as he gently set her back on her own feet to take the small backpack the woman was pulling from the backseat.

"I saw Mom's drawings, and I tried to draw like her," Was her shy answer.

"Hi Allison," Daryl offered as the backpack transferred to his hands. She offered him a polite nod, but that couldn't ward off the chill Daryl felt in the air around them.

"I'll be back to pick her up around 7 tonight. Be good princess," Allison had turned her attention to her child without batting an eye at Daryl. He offered his agreement to her terms nonetheless before latching hands with the sweet little lady beside him.

"Say bye to Mommy so we can start having fun little miss," He suggested to the child.

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><p>Daryl allowed himself to grin at the memory, he hadn't been that happy in a long time, and probably never would be again with the turn the world had taken. These monsters had snatched the first great thing the world had given him and turned it into a torn carcass, chewed to bits, but still wrapped in her mother's arms. That stupid woman hadn't even tried to get them out of their house, she hadn't taken them to her father's –Daryl knew Allison's father was well-armed for this type of danger, but instead they were overrun ten feet from his child's bed. He couldn't stop wondering if she'd called out for him to save them, telling himself that there had been nothing he could have done at that point. He reminded himself that it wasn't his fault he lived too far from them, that everything had happened when it wasn't his day to have Sadie, it was Allison's. Just like it wasn't his fault Sophia was in danger now; it was Carol's or Rick's; there's nothing he could do about how Sophia ends up.<p>

'_No, I can. I'm gonna to find that little girl. Those walkers ain't taking her too.'_


	11. Hard To Be Happy

**It's short, it doesn't end where it's supposed to, and it only moves us to the brink of some action, but it is a post, I'm running on a busy schedule right now, and it assures I will be posting the follow up tomorrow (maybe even tonight). So, chin up even with the short length.**

**To the dear reviewers: Demonic Hope, you're awesome, and I'll be posting the manip link tomorrow as it will run well with either the next post or the one directly after; eloquent dreams, soon friend, you will not be disappointed; TwilightEclps, thank you! And I'm not sure what I can do about the lengths, I prefer to not allow myself to get bored or over think a chapter, which happens when htye're longer, and I feel like the writing is more accessible to more people if it's broken into smaller parts. The best I can offer you is the regular postings and the occasional long piece; Nelle07, I don't think they'll pull that kind of storyline, since the time for it would have been while searching for Sophia, I just felt the need to give his pushing himself to such measures some depth aside from trying to fit into a group and prove himself to others.**

**To the future: The way my story seems to be leading me, we may very well be inching into season 3 territory which means possibly toeing into the comic/graphic novel line. I want to assure you that I will warn of spoilers, and nothing will be quite the same when it's included in my story since I have OCs and we have different characters (TV) reaching into the comic universe. **

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><p>"No, problem. That should be a breeze," Daniel joked, tossing the ball up and smacking with his foot, to his elbow, and promptly missing with his left foot. Sophia cracked up, and I had to join, though hidden by my hand.<p>

"So… two?" I checked before putting it to paper. We had been, for the most part, stuck in the clothing store for nearly three days. The streets, previously barren to the point of being creepy, had been crawling with the monsters since that scuffle further in town. What I wouldn't give for air conditioning, a shower, and the chance to strangle whoever had caused this mess. I'd been making very quick runs to the various other little stores and the quaint restaurant that had a stockpile of canned goods to keep us stocked up, but Faline's feed bag had been getting lighter and lighter by the day, and the smell from the back room –which we'd given over to Faline for her needs since I refused to send her out into the stumbling masses outside- was getting stifling.

One on of my trips out on the first day, Daniel had decided he was so bored that he needed something to do to occupy the time, since I'd asked him and Sophia to stay in and away from the windows, which is when he'd fashioned a makeshift hacky sac. Daniel had said he used to love playing in his free time, and proceeded to teach Sophia the "Art of Hacky" as Daniel eloquently put it –without fail, in a froofroo English accent every time. Sophia took to it like a fish to swimming. I was still having a bit of trouble hitting the thing more than once.

When I'd proven, once more, that I didn't have the skills to do anything with a hacky sac besides juggling it, we sat to have a small lunch. Daniel was nice enough to mix Faline's food, adding water and letting the bits soak and expand before offering the bucket to the eager horse who nuzzled him happily before digging in.

"You know, Faline's almost out of food, Fiona," Daniel reminded me around a bit from his peanut butter and jelly sandwich –a delicacy for which I was particularly proud of finding the ingredients.

"I know Daniel. We've got to start thinking of a way to get out of here even if these things don't clear out soon. It doesn't do much good keeping away from them if I can't keep her fed." I frowned, unsure how we were going to pull off such a feat.

"I might have thought of something," Daniel offered, not meeting my eyes, staring intently at the bread in his hands. "When we opened the back door, I saw a ladder up onto the roof of this building. So I was thinking yesterday…" He dug in his pocket, "I have these," and produced a hand of seven small red cylinders with an inch of string at one end of each. My eyes widened. He reached back into his pocket and produced a lighter to accompany the cylinders. I looked up at his face with question. "The night my parents said we had to get to the car and out of the neighborhood, some friends and I had planned to hit a couple teachers' mailboxes," He smiled sheepishly.

There was a beat of silence in the group.

"You think you can toss them far enough to draw them away from the front doors?"

"I've pitched on my baseball teams since I was eight," He offered with a shrug.

"Alright, then," things were moving quickly since we were planning on getting out of here so soon, "you head up there, I'll make sure you get to the ladder, and we'll pack everything up down here. Chuck them toward the center of town, when you throw the last one zip down here, and we'll try getting through the opposite way."

He bobbed his head, hand tight on our chance to get free. We made to the back door in a silent, tense procession, and when we unbolted the door to a clear path I scooped the kid into a hug.

"You better be careful," Was all I was able to get out through my excitement. He hugged back before taking off like a monkey up the ladder. I wondered briefly what he had done previously to become so adept at climbing, but pushed it aside to begin throwing our supplies back in bags and saddling up Faline. After hefting Sophia into the saddle, I looked between her and Faline carefully. "I want you two to head out to the right thirty as soon as I open the front door, and I want you to go as fast as you can for thirty seconds. Daniel and I will catch up, just be sure to stay away from the walkers."

"We will Fiona. Please don't take long to catch up," Sophia pleaded. I could see how anxious she was about this plan, but we had to get out of here, and I couldn't have waited much longer even if Daniel hadn't come through with those precious firecrackers.

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><p>Daryl Dixon was back up on his feet without the constant watchful eyes of the women at camp –though that had lessened dramatically when he'd snapped at Carol in such an unforgiving manner— but he was pissed. His tumble down the ravine had done more damage than he'd realized during his forced bed rest. His jeans had a ridiculous rip through the side, not covering the large bruise and scrape along his right leg; his shirt, found when he picked it up from the wad of clothing on his tent floor, had a bloody puncture from his arrow; and he still hadn't any better idea where to find Carol's little girl.<p> 


	12. We Like To Party

I'm not dead, I promise! Zombie-like, maybe, but still alive and able to type. I've just been caught up with classes and a new awesome job, so my time and inspiration to write has been slowly drained. I'm also hitting a brick wall by not wanting to more too quickly ahead and take some of the thunder away from season 3. That said, I'm going to try to update at reasonable intervals, though the story may move slowly. I'm super sorry this one has been so long coming, and honestly it probably isn't the best work, but it's something to let you guys know I'm still thinking of you!

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><p>Daryl wasn't about to ask for clothes from these people; they didn't want their group on their farm to begin with, and the meathead's outburst the other day had put them all on thin ice. If they hadn't brought that kid back from town, they'd probably be already tossed out on the road, but here they were. Rick, Glenn, and Hershel had dragged the boy back about three days ago and bandaged him up in the farm house, though now they arguing about what to do with the kid; should they kill him, let him go far from here and hope he doesn't find his way back with a larger group, or let him stay put on the farm to help?<p>

Daryl shook his head. If they were going to kill him they should have just left him where they found him instead of risking themselves to save him, using their dwindling supplies to patch him up, and putting this awful decision on anyone in the group. He was reminded that he was traveling and trying to survive with a handful of idiots and incompetent women. He should have followed his brother's lead and took off when he had the chance. These people were going to get him killed.

He threw his pack over his shoulder and lifted his crossbow to the other before stepping out of his tent. He was going to find clothes today; surely the ruckus Rick had spoken of in town had died down by now. Cooler weather was moving in, the nights already had a chill set in around midnight, and a punctured shirt wasn't much defense.

"Dixon," Daryl suppressed the urge to jump, being caught momentarily off guard while planning his day. Shane was standing over beside the gleaming motorcycle, causing Daryl to tense unnoticeably. If he even touched that bike, "you headed somewhere?"

"Making a run into town. What's it to you?" Daryl answered nonchalantly, keeping steady eyes on the meathead.

"I was about to have a discussion with Rick about what should happen with our guest when he's all fixed up, thought you might want to sit in and have some say, but you do what you gotta do," Shane waved him off and ambled back to the farm house. He must have really wanted his input on the matter to put up such a fight. Daryl shook his head, throwing his crossbow over his shoulder, checking the pistol in his bag, and slinging himself onto the seat. He needed to get out of here.

Liam stroked Boromir's mane, looking out at the deserted interstate, packed with empty cars and bloody remnants. His eyes were sad, his face tired and looking beyond his age, and his limbs were tired and sore from the tense hours of sleep he'd snagged the night before. The two had been making decent pace since the Nokota had nipped his human's ear to coax him from the abandoned car on the bridge. They had waited there a day; the first few hours stressed, wondering why the young woman hadn't been waiting with her mare since they'd gotten such an early lead; slowly that tension turned to a sorrowful fury, he'd lost his parents, his best friend, his wife, and now his sister; when he'd decided he would simply sit on the hood of the beat up Buick and let the stinking corpses find them and end him, Boromir had rounded on him and promptly snapped his teeth with just enough pressure upon the lobe to cause the man to jump and teeter to the ground. The sun was setting, and they needed somewhere semi-safe to catch the hours they'd lost pacing the bridge for Fiona and Faline's appearance. That night they'd hunkered up on a hill, the night was graciously clear of clouds and filled with a bright moon. Liam took the time to splay a few branches fallen from the trees further from the hill in a radius a distance from their blankets. Any stumbling would hopefully alert them in time.

That sleep hadn't helped. Liam jolted awake often, feeling no more rested than the time before, still hearing a shriek he knew he'd heard in the past; it was a sound that –even only being an echo in a dream of times long ago- turned his blood to ice. The stallion seemed to understand; shuttering awake seconds after Liam's eyes would open and pawing the air gently in front of him before huffing out a deep breath right beside Liam's shoulder. He was why Liam couldn't give up. Those big eyes staring at him in the gray dawn light showed a soul that hadn't given up, and Liam would be damned if he failed his remaining companion.

Fiona's eyes were tense on the stumbling masses further up the road into the small town. The few right outside the store were oblivious to their existence, bumping into one another and shuffling along in a new trajectory. Faline thumped a hoof impatiently, Sophia shifted on the saddle, and everything was quiet for a moment. Then Fiona heard it.

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><p>Fiona found the world very…blurry. It wasn't a bad thing. It was quite fun actually. Here she was, a month or so out from graduating and hopping away to college, enjoying spring break like any girl her age should: stumbling around at a party while her parents thought she was simply staying the week at a friend's place. They had nothing to worry about; she <em>was<em> at her friend's home, all of ten miles down the road from her grandparents' house if anything went awry. She had just forgotten to mention her friend had a wild single mother, and an older brother. An older brother, with older friends, who encouraged his younger sister to live the teenage life of wildness before her time was cut short by the harsh adult world –he extended the same fruits of wisdom to Fiona the day she arrived. Now, here they were, surrounded by loud kids, acting like fools, getting dirtied up in the mud and the rain from the spring rain, and generally having a blast.

Fiona hadn't tried alcohol before. She'd seen her parents imbibe and enjoy themselves with their friends, her brother had recently joined their ranks, but they all firmly spoke of how she would not partake until the legal age. She laughed, the sound breaking past her lips without her consent. If they could see her now. She didn't know what the big deal was; the world was a swimming, chaotic mess. It was colors and distorted faces and intensified noises.

Noises. She could hear the roar of a motorcycle and the cry of the crowd of teens as the metal beast pulled up the drive followed by an old, loud pickup. The bike was shiny, black, and as intimidating as the rider controlling it. The sight of the pair were etched into her memory, along with the distinct sound of the engine, rumbling, low, and a tinge menacing.

"It's Merle!" Katie, Fiona's friend, squealed snagging Fiona's arm and pulling her along to great the bike and truck at their parking spot. Katie smile wryly. "He always brings some of the best 'shine."

"Who's'at now?" Fiona tried to articulate, but shook her head at the effort.

"He's Mom's…thing. He's cool for an old dude," Katie said loud enough, jokingly, as they approached the man dismounting the bike.

"Old dude?" His voice was raspy and make Fiona want to curl away upon hearing it –he was a fright. "Well if that's whatchu think Little Miss, I can take my booze where it's more appreciated."

There was a groan in the crowd that had gathered at the new arrivals along with some "C'mon, Katie"s and "Be nice"s.

"You know I love you, Merle," Katie batted her lashes, laying the charm on thick and the man laughed heartily, swatting the girl on the arm.

"Your mom inside?" Merle asked getting an enthusiastic nod in return. "Jugs are in Daryl's truck. Help yourselves. Don't do nothing I wouldn't." He locked the steering on the bike and lumbered off toward the house, sparing a friendly shake for Max, Katie's brother, as he passed. Katie punched the air before snagging Fiona's wrist and tugging her off toward the beaten up pick-up truck where a slimmer, and only minimally less intimidating figure leaned against the side of the truck bed.

"How's it going Daryl," Katie breathed in a manner Fiona had heard her use around her brother's other friends she later gushed about. Were she more in control of her own functions, Fiona might have held back the roll of her eyes; as it was, she was not, so an exaggerated roll was easily noticed by the one they called Daryl. The man gave a short laugh and mirrored her actions.

"None of that tonight Miss Katie," He teased in condescension. Katie's face fell. "But I made sure Merle packed up some Jack for you," He repaired turning and pulling a bottle free from the back. Katie offered a thanks.

"Oh, Daryl, this is my friend Fiona. She's staying a few weeks at her grandparents' place; Ellie and Joe Mackey down the road a ways," Daryl's eyes widened up a bit and he swiveled to look at the young lady by Katie's side, shuffling her feet wobbly.

"Hey, I've met you before," He grinned, "You were pretty much a baby then," he cackled. "You grew up good, girl!"

Fiona felt her face grow flush as soon as he started talking. She recognized him now, and felt silly remembering the way she'd fawned over him with her school girl crush. Maybe he wouldn't remember that. Nope, the way his eyes seemed to be twinkling with laughter crossed that hope out.

That was a long night.


	13. Damn Spiders

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't apologize enough. I've officially bound and gagged my muse. She's been very bad lately. This is short, but I'm going to try for more. I just had to let you guys know I'm not dead. Without further ado.

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><p>The rumble through the small town brought back visions of the brothers that had stuck around a good deal through the week Fiona had visited her grandparents. What were the odds that the elder brother had made it this far into the end of the world? Well, if Fiona were honest, they were probably pretty good; he'd shown off his shot, he had the survival skills, and he cut an impressive figure that would have kept any trouble making living-folks at bay. She had to be grasping at straws if her heart was beating faster at the prospect of him being the one person she had at least a vague history with in a world barren of familiar faces.<p>

Fiona shifted the pack on her shoulder as the thrumming of the engine went on and the walkers outside began shuffling in that direction. She perked up and ran to the back door of the shop, ignoring Sophia's questioning. She heaved the door open and nearly screamed when Daniel landed with a thump on his feet.

"Whoever that is is drawing them away from us. Maybe I can hold onto these for a bit longer?" He motioned with the firecrackers unsure. Fiona pulled him by the shoulder inside and regrouped with Sophia.

"Alright, new plan. When these corpses are drawn far enough by that noise we make a break for it. We get as far outside of this town as we can, then we try to find somewhere with feed," Fiona nodded to herself. "Sophia, I'll still need you and Faline to run a ways. Daniel, you're lighter than I am, so I want you to ride with Sophia so I know you two are safe. Stick to the road, keep straight. I'll catch up once we get through the stragglers."

The dead were thinning out, shuffling away with new interest in the growing noise, and the chance of escape was open. Fiona cautiously threw open the door, Sophia and Daniel ducked through, Fiona offered a sharp pat to Faline's backside, and they were off. The days of little exertion had taken a toll on Fiona's running, but as her feet hit the pavement she only thought of getting to safety and hoping their escape wouldn't mean their unknowing savior's demise. Jesus, her lungs were burning.

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><p>"Fuck," Daryl breathed as he saw the walkers stumbling around the street. Leave it to the three stooges to let this Mecca of supplies to get overrun with geeks. Yep, they were all interested in him, that was evident from the mass bumping into one another to make it down the street his direction. Clothes wouldn't be an option, not here, not today. He huffed in frustration, slowing to think through his options. The decreased speed wasn't the way for long as a couple walkers tumbled out of a small alley and Daryl gassed it, swinging easily around the corner, to be met with a larger group. He snarled. All he wanted was a damn shirt. His attention was caught when he saw movement that was decidedly not reanimated. One of those big horse beasts emerged from a building down the road and hauled tail down the street while the walkers had their attention elsewhere. Another figure followed quickly. He had a momentary worry for them, seeing the stragglers that hadn't yet sought out the new target, but he shook it away, laying on the throttle and weaving through the throng of carcasses. The figure glanced over their shoulder, his direction, but did not linger as she skirted away from the outstretched limbs of one of the stragglers. Daryl continued weaving through the walkers, concentrating on not getting boxed in anywhere, the groans coming from the dead made the small breakfast he'd snagged before leaving the farm churn in his stomach, but not nearly as much as seeing the lady catch the sidewalk as she was running and tumble forward with a surprised yelp. He wasn't too far off from her now, he could at least help her not become lunch for the mob following behind him. Daryl didn't think he could sleep peacefully knowing he'd led them straight for her, and at least then his day wouldn't be as unproductive as it was beginning to seem.<p>

"Hey!" He called out loudly over the roar of the motorcycle as he kicked it up. Her head swiveled around as she pushed herself upright clumsily with her skinned palms. Daryl swung his arm out as he approached her, and saw a momentary flicker of hesitation on her end before she laid her own hand on his forearm and swept onto the seat behind him. "Hang on!" He warned before hitting the gas. The lady lurched back, but caught herself on the sides of Daryl's ratty shirt as they sped away. At this rate they would catch her companions before long. When they were decently clear of the mob Daryl chanced peaking around at his rescuee. He wasn't terribly surprised to find her studying him as soon as he'd turned, but he was stunned when she spoke up.

"Dixon!?" Her eyes were wide, and her knowledge of his last name shocked his brain into searching for how he could have ever possibly come in contact with a girl in this middle of nowhere town. He didn't have to think long, she seemed to notice the confusion and tried to explain herself. "Daryl! I'm Fiona, we met forever ago. Christmas at my grandparents."

"Oh, yeah," He grinned smoothly, though she missed it as he returned to watching the road. The horse's backside wasn't far from view. "Surprised you made it this far. You couldn't even kill a spider last I saw ya," He teased.

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><p>Faline smacked his shoulder easily. She reveled momentarily for the escape from the dreadful situation they were in, thinking back to the time a very drunk Fiona had stumbled into the bathroom at the Dixon trailer one evening during that spring break and broken into tears upon seeing the eight legged fright lounging –very intimidatingly, mind you- on the toilet lid. She had proceeded to call both men of the home into the tiny room where she'd pressed herself into the far corner and whimpered until they'd disposed of the poor thing.<p>

"That thing was fuckin' scary, alright!?" She defended.

"If I remember right, it was a granddaddy long legs," He deadpanned. She pouted, but pushed it from her as they drew up to earshot of the two atop Faline.

"Daniel, Sophia, you can slow it up now. We should be clear!" She called out. Daryl whipped his head around to her.

"What'd you just-" He stopped short as he swiveled back around, "Sophia!"


	14. Just a Little

A very small chapter to supplement the previous post...and since we haven't heard from this side in a while!

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><p>The man walked along the dirt driveway cautiously, his companion following close with ears alert to any suspicious noises. The two were tired from the nearly non-stop pace they'd kept, dirty from the mud and the blood they'd had to trek through, and so very hungry –food hadn't been easy to come by with the hordes of dead wandering around what seemed like every corner. Both were hoping the mailbox near a strongly fenced parcel of land meant maybe the home hadn't been totally ravaged. Even with the possibility of food looming in the distance, the two couldn't bring themselves to pick up their pace. Their muscles cried for rest with every step. Maybe…even if there weren't rations available…it would be nice to have a place that wasn't crawling with corpses and stinking of the dead to catch a few hours napping.<p>

Two hearts sped in confused fear and joy when a number of voices called out: "Stop right there", "Who the hell are you?" and "What do you think you're doing here?" The man stopped in his tracks and his friend followed his lead. He laid his weapon on the ground slowly, hoping to show these people with their guns aimed carefully upon the two that they meant no harm. Perhaps they understood, as a group of three came forward with guns held steadily.

"Please," the man started hoarsely from the lack of liquids, "we mean no ill will. We've been traveling so long-"

"Tell us who you are," a dark-haired man said as the other two stood back to either side "and how you found this place."

His back up consisted of an older, graying man, and a tall, muscled man with a shaven head. Both had untrusting eyes, but the second seemed more on his guard.

"We were just passing down the road and saw the mailbox and fence. Didn't know anyone was here, and thought it would be safer for a time. Name's Liam," the man explained. The trio glanced at one another.

"Herschel, they don't look like much trouble," The leader spoke quietly to the older of the three.

"Rick, what are you saying? We've got enough on our hands with that kid!" The tall one started. Liam decided he didn't much like him or the way his dark eyes were narrowed in anger.

"Shut it, Shane. We could maybe spare a meal from our camp, if you're not opposed to them staying…a day?"

There was silence as the man pondered it.

"He stays away from the house and my girls. I'm leaving him to you, Rick."


	15. Thank God I'm A Country Boy

How many times can an author say sorry before it gets just plain annoying? Let's pretend I've said it two times be for that mark, and I'll say it again: "I'm sorry!" However, I'm back. I'm dealing with a new computer, so I've got nothing saved; this was just a spur of the moment upload, but I'm really trying to get back into the swing of things. I just HAD to bring you guys some more, and something GOOD for being so patient with me. So, leave some reviews, let my muse see how HAPPY you are I'm back, and I'll try to whip her into bringing y'all some more by this weekend.

Much love.

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><p>"Daryl!" Sophia called as she fidgeted in the saddle as the group slowed. When they had stopped the Dixon brother bolted around to help her off the beast and pulled her into a tight hug.<p>

"Your mama's been worried sick about you, little girl. Everybody has really," He informed her holding her back to take in her appearance. "Nice clothes."

"My mom's ok?" Sophia ignored his comment on her clothes, saw him nod to her question and swung around to see Fiona. "Did you hear that, Fi? My mom's ok! Can we go see her now?"

Both adults looked back in the direction Daryl had obviously come from knowing it was still teeming with the dead. As much as Fiona wanted to tell the bright-eyed child that they could make way for wherever Sophia's group was staying, she wasn't too familiar with the area and she knew the way their hero had come from was now decidedly blocked from passage.

"Is there another way to get where you came from, Mister?" Daniel chimed in after her had hoisted himself down from Faline's back. "I don't think you'd be getting back through town anytime soon. They've been there for days."

"I figured. Those morons must'a really caused a ruckus the other night," Daryl frowned. "I think the only other way is to go a mile or so north or south and see if we can meet back up with the road to the farm."

"Y'all are bunked up at a farm?" Fiona asked with hope growing in her mind. The main force that had pushed them from their own shelter could be remedied if this farm were anything like the name would suggest. There was bound to be some sustenance for their equine companion. Daryl nodded at her and shifted his eyes towards the beast that had rounded itself to look back at him. He understood the tone in the woman's question.

"Yep, and I would imagine Carol'll be puttin' in a real good word for you since your bringing her kid back. Shouldn't be too difficult to buy you some time to get on your feet for wherever you're headed," Daryl chose his words carefully thinking on the turmoil brewing at the campsite over the visitor behind the mob in the town.

"That's great!" Fiona grinned and walked to help heft Sophia back into the saddle. "I don't mean to impose, but would it be alright if I rode with you Daryl? Faline can't carry me and Daniel, so Sohpia's gotta saddle with him."

"Sure thing. Hope back on and hold tight. Now I want you two to stick close behind, alright Daniel?" Daryl watched as the teen settled in behind the excited blonde child. "The bike is noisy, so we're going to have to keep a steady pace if we don't want the walkers swarming on us; it shouldn't take us long to get back."

"Hey, isn't this your brother's bike?" Fiona blabbed when they had gotten themselves started the right direction and wished she could call the question back when she felt Daryl tense under her hands on his sides.

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><p>"This is my wife, Lori, and my son, Carl. Guys, this is Liam. He's gonna be staying the night with us. He managed to make it out of Atlanta not long ago," The officer introduced Liam as they walked through the small camp. Liam, having been married a few years before the start of the world going to hell, didn't miss the look Lori sent her husband; Liam wasn't certain, but there must have been an issue between the two about welcoming in strangers –Liam couldn't blame them in the current atmosphere. "We're just helping him get on his feet, darling. He and his horse look like they haven't had a meal or a wink in days."<p>

"Where do you plan on heading?" Lori asked quietly as she stood from the stump she had been hunched on messing with stitching a ragged shirt. She had offered a friendly handshake with her words, seemingly over the silent issue with Rick.

"Hadn't put too much thought into it. I lost my sister trying to get to the CDC," Liam explained powering through the weak lump in his throat. The grimace on the three faces watching him told him they were aware of the destruction that lay in Atlanta. "I guess my next option'll be down to Manchester. My uncle was always a bit of a nut about doomsday planning, so if I've got anyone, it'll be him."

"Well, we've got a run into town planned for tomorrow. It's not the safest, but we're needing the supplies. I suppose if you'd be up for staying around one more night and add to the hands on the run, we could probably set you out with a few more supplies to help yourself along," Rick shrugged. Liam had officially decided he liked this guy.

"Sounds like a fair deal to me," Liam responded as the sheriff kissed his wife's forehead and mentioned going to introduce him to the other folks milling around the area. The next hour consisted of meeting all the people outside the farmhouse. Liam made fast friends with an older man named Dale, quickly offended a young blonde named Andrea –she didn't have much of a sense of humor, exchanged polite 'hello's with a frail waifish woman named Carol, and found a companion to his nonchalant dark humor in T-Dog. The group –outside of the man still sulking moodily from being overruled on Liam staying- was a warm reminder of the civility that still lingered.

"Then, last present, but not least, we've got Glenn. He's the mastermind behind all the runs for supplies. He's a guy I'd trust with my life," Rick praised as the men approached a young Asian man who had been studying a map. "Glenn, this is Liam. He's going to be joining us on the run tomorrow."

"Oh, that's great. After the commotion the other night I was having a hard time trying to figure how the crew was going to manage without too much risk. You're an appreciated addition, man," Glenn happily shook Liam's hand before pulling Rick in to examine the map he had been pouring over before their arrival. "I was thinking we could swing around the north side of town and go in from the east. If any have stuck around since the tavern, they'll probably still be on the other side of town. We go in quiet enough and we should still be able to hit the grocery, pharmacy –though I think we pretty well cleaned that out last time, and maybe the hunting supply shopping; Daryl's been groaning about needing more arrows and I know you mentioned Carl needing new boots if we're ever planning on leaving here."

"Looking like a good plan Glenn. We're going to go have a chat with Herschel; see what we can get set up for this man's trusty steed," Rick bid goodbye to Glenn and motioned Liam to follow him. Herschel wasn't a hard man to find, he was actually out in the stables tending to his own horses when the two came upon him. "Herschel."

"Hello, Rick, Liam," the older man sounded tired, and the point was driven home with the sore stretch and the way he dug his hand into his eyes for a massage. "You getting settled in alright?"

Liam nodded with a gracious smile that was returned by the farm owner.

"That's good. I actually wanted to apologize for my roughness earlier," Herschel had a mildly sheepish look to him as he faced the two, "Sometimes it's surprisingly easy to forget just how lucky we are to still come across the living who aren't waving a gun in your face."

"I took no offence," Liam assured him moving to help the man lift a hay bale he had begun to tote to the nearest stale. "I'm just relieved you've given me somewhere to get a full night's sleep."

"I actually wanted to ask if you'd be opposed to Liam staying an extra night, Herschel. He's agreed to go on the run into town tomorrow, and I was thinking it'd be a nice way of expressing our appreciation," Rick cut straight to the point. The gray haired man looked between the two before chuckling briefly.

"You give 'em an inch," His tone made clear that he spoke in jest. "If he's willing to pull his weight and doesn't cause trouble, I'm alright with him sticking around. That horse of yours is also welcome to take up that end stall there. I'll have to ask that you get him settled in soon; we don't like them roaming around into the evening in case they were to catch the eye of the …dead."

"Right. I'll just go round him up then. I'm sure he's about ready to find himself in a pen with real food," Liam grinned before headed out from the stables. The sun was starting to droop in the sky, Georgia creeping into the fall was shortening the days and it wouldn't be too long before dusk then night, and the time was further evident by the women at camp migrating into the house. In passing Carol mentioned they were heading to fix dinner and she hoped Liam had brought an appetite. "Never left it behind in my life," he managed to joke before she was out of earshot.

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><p>Boromir had only wandered a few feet from where Liam had left him, meticulously grazing on the lush field grass. He fought Liam only briefly when he tried to pull him from the feast, but with the sound of a joyful whinny from the stables he was moved into action. It didn't take too long to corral the creature and set him up with food, fresh water, and a loving scratching of the chin after which Liam bid him a good night. When he met back up with Rick there was a bit of a stir going through the occupants of the farm; there was the distant sound of an engine coming from the road Liam had wandered up earlier that day, and it seemed to be a sound the inhabitants had been expecting.<p>

"That'll be Daryl. Let's hope he's back so late 'cause he spent the day dumping his bad mood in the river," Andrea chimed as the engine grew closer and the group naturally gravitated to the yard in the direction of the front gate.

"Daryl's the last you've not met. Killer shot with a crossbow, but just as killer of an attitude," T-dog informed Liam from his left. The energy of the group quickly shifted through a whole range as they watched the headlight from the bike grow closer, and Liam was not immune from the change. As they all realized the biker was not alone there was an air of apprehension, as the figures grew closer there was a moment of confusion, and then one of the figures on the horse accompanying the bike shouted and craziness broke the ranks of the group that had been standing in wait.

"Mom!? Mommy!" A small girl's voice called before the owner began slinging herself from the saddle and scampering across the dirt drive. At the same time, Carol had perked up and the first call and nearly shrieked as she was the first to start the group run towards the hollering child.

"Sophia!" The woman's cracking voice was heart-melting, and the embrace the two slammed into was something out of the Lifetime movies Liam's wife would spend hours watching and tearing up in front of. Liam slowly joined the group that was now fawning over the child, all unnoticing of the three companions until Carol turned her tearful eyes to the bike rider. "Oh Daryl, we knew you'd come through. How can I ever begin to thank you?"

The biker who had stepped off the machine but kept his distance from the mob scene of welcoming hugs and cheers held up his hands as if to ward off the woman's thanks.

"As much as I would like to take all that thanks, I only got her savior here. You gotta thank this lady. Fiona, this is Sophia's mom, Carol," Daryl had hardly finished his sentence when Liam caught everyone off guard with a half-shouted 'Fiona?'

"Liam?" Fiona replied, her eyes wide with confusion before she mimicked Sophia's scamper through the mass of those welcoming the missing child, and she launched herself into her brother's arms. The two were openly crying, Liam –after catching his sister and swinging her in a crushing bear hug- had sunk down to his knees refusing to release his sister as she kept hold to him, and the spotlight toggled between each reunited family for the following ten minutes.


	16. Girls Love A Man In Uniform

Again, sorry for the delay folks. Only excuse I have for this one is the fact that I picked up a second job to go with the first and my full-time school schedule (where half the professors decided to assign 5+ page papers in the same week...). But here's a nice, short new chapter. Thought it might be a nice time for this chapter considering we've got Veteran's Day coming up here in the States. So, you all enjoy, leave some feedback(? Hell, I'll even just take a 'hi' in the reviews so I know you're real people and not just reader numbers.), thank a serviceman or woman, and I'll see y'all for the next chapter.

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><p>"Fiona," Was sniffled over the line, which quickly shook Fiona from her joyful mood. Caller ID had informed her it was her mother, but Fiona had no idea why she would be calling after…well, it'd be after eleven at home.<p>

"Mom? What's up?" Fiona sifted through her brain trying figure out if there was a family member who had been ill; her aunt had had a minor case of pneumonia, but she thought that had been solved; Grandma was getting up in years, maybe-

"Fiona, it's your brother," her mother hiccupped and sobbed before the sound of the phone shuffling hands brought her father's voice on the line.

"We just got a call saying Liam's been wounded, Fiona. They said it shouldn't be life threatening," his voice moved away from the receiver and Fiona guessed he was saying that to reassure her mother more than to inform Fiona. "Regardless, he's being flown back home as soon as he's cleared for take-off. Now, please don't worry too much. I know you've got classes tomorrow, but if you could possibly make it home…you know your brother would feel better seeing you."

Fiona sat in stunned silence for a moment. Liam had been so excited when he joined the marines. Their grandfather had proudly doted over him and their father had held back a tear as the family stood to greet him after his ceremony for completing boot camp. Fiona was sixteen when he left boot camp in the spring to serve on base in California –she happily took over chores for Boromir. That September their world had been turned upside down when Liam received orders that he would be deploying to the Middle East. That wasn't what was supposed to happen. California was too far for her liking as it was, but half-way around the world?! The military was supposed to look good on his resume after his four years of service. He was supposed to get a good schooling, get out, and come back closer to home… not be shipped off into enemy fire. Their mom had cried her eyes dry, they'd had all their family into town for a going away party, a fair number of letters of appreciation came to the house before Liam departed, and just as many sympathy cards came to comfort those remaining at the home –including one from the Dixon's that mentioned Dawn's sadness that they couldn't have been present to see the serviceman off.

Thankfully the first deployment had gone without a hitch, but it was a different life Fiona wasn't sure she liked without seeing her brother's smiling face every day and not knowing if he was safe. Then he came home, and everyone had been happy; well, Liam was as happy as someone who'd seen war could be. He would be home for a bit, then get sent back to another location in the "sandbox" as he'd taken to calling it, then he'd come back and start the cycle again. Each time they were lucky enough for nothing to happen to him, and only minor injuries were received by his companions. This time, her brother had been deployed for nearly six months with little incident for his unit –they were thankfully stationed in a less chaotic sector, she had even gotten to talk to him the day before, and now he was coming home wounded. She gulped down the lump in her throat. A non-life-threatening wound was worlds better than a casket.

"Ok, ok…I can e-mail my professors and let them know the circumstance. I can be on the road in an hour and be home before dawn," Fiona breathed trying to keep calm. Her dad agreed to her plan and asked her to be careful. She was good to her word, and pulled into the driveway of her parent's home at five-fifteen. It was that evening when Liam was back on home soil and admitted to the local hospital. His leg had been wounded, but the surgeons were good at their job and said he would heal with little to no trouble; everyone just needed patience. Fiona could do that. She could put many to shame with as patient as she could be, evidenced by her staying near his room –often snuggled beside him on the lumpy bed— and talking for hours about any old thing he might have missed while he was away and while she was at school. This hospital stay was also the one where Fiona had introduced Liam to the pretty brunette nurse she'd met on the way to the cafeteria.

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><p>"Dinner's ready, y'all. Let's not let it get cold. We can continue this reunion over some food," Maggie brought the group out of their reverie and waved toward the dimly lit farmhouse. Liam caught Herschel's arm as he headed by.<p>

"Herschel, is it alright if my sister's horse takes a stall for the night?" Liam asked respectfully. The older man smiled tiredly and swiveled to face both siblings.

"So long as you can get it set on your own, that will be fine. Don't take too long though, that table empties before you'd believe," He started to make way with the rest of the group, but turned back and with a genuine tone he added, "I'm glad you two found your way back to one another."

"We'll be up in a minute Sophia, don't worry," Fiona assured the young girl who had looked back over her mother's arm and looked very worried. The two moseyed over to the teen who was standing sheepishly by the horse ripping grass happily from the ground. "Daniel, go on up with Daryl, these folks look alright."

"C'mon Faline, I think there's someone you're going to want to see," Liam greeted her quietly, causing her head to swing up, and her features became more perky than Fiona had seen in weeks. As the three made their way up to the stables their equine companion had her neck craned and was trying to nip Liam affectionately which he would playfully bat away only to have her jaunt to his other side and try again. "I know girl, I missed you too. Good lord Fi, have you not been giving her attention or what?"

"As if I could ignore her if I tried," Fiona joked watching the two. "We both just thought…we might not see you again, Liam; can you blame her for being excited?"

"Yeah…good point. It is kind of a miracle we made it here. Boromir had to practically kick my ass outside of Atlanta. I almost gave up when you didn't show on the bridge," Liam spoke truthfully to his sister, holding Faline's head away so he could maneuver the stable door open. The scent of horses hit the air and Faline lurched inside and scanned the occupants making small noises in their stalls. The siblings knew she saw Boromir in his stall when she let out a loud whinny and trotted inside to meet him. They also knew pretty quickly by the way she wouldn't budge from the stall doorway that there wouldn't be much of a chance of putting her in one of her own, so Fiona caved and opened the gate to allow the two together. "Those two are practically inseparable," Liam chuckled.

"Well, they sure couldn't have picked that up from anyone," Fiona chirped sarcastically as she slung her arm around her brother's waist. In return he kissed the top of her head and hugged her close to his side. The two of them heard a loud gurgle and Fiona glanced down at her stomach. "Let's go eat, Li. I'm starving!"


	17. Of Twigs and Berries

Next!

Sorry if you guys got a fault alert, there was an incident.

Please enjoy. Let me know that you enjoy. I allow anon reviews, so bring it on!

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><p>"Daniel, Sophia, and I all hid out in the little clothing store in town. I think we heard when you guys were in the other night. What went down exactly?" Fiona asked tentatively as she happily had a spoonful of warm stew. She practically moaned when the flavor hit her. It was <span>real<span> food in a house that was void of the stink of the dead –though Fiona could still smell the rank stench of dirt and other grime on herself. She needed a bath.

"It was a bad scene with some folks who wanted to come to this place," Ricked offered in explanation.

"I could see why. Everyone's looking for somewhere better," Fiona nodded.

"Yeah, well, they looked like the kind of people we couldn't trust here, and they talked about a group that we'd have no way of helping. When we tried to get off the topic they pushed the issue, and their buddies showed up. They made a bunch of noise and I guess you saw what happened after that," Rick finished. There was a brief look that passed around the table, Fiona wasn't sure what silent communication went through the group, but she let it slide.

"Yeah, those walkers stuck around and blocked us from going anywhere," Daniel jumped in. He had already scarfed his stew and was ready to warm to the group of new people.

"If Daryl hadn't showed up making so much noise we had a plan. Fiona wasn't just going to let us stay trapped," Sophia announced. There was an expectant look from a number of listeners curious for the story of this plan. "We had firecrackers to throw for distraction. I think this worked out better though."

"Firecrackers, huh?" Daryl cocked an eyebrow and sent Fiona a cheeky smirk.

"Oh hush," Fiona waved him off. "It's not like there are many people around to care about their mailboxes exploding."

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><p>Seventeen years old, and there she was hanging half-way out of the truck-bed waiting to light the wick on the string of tiny red explosives. The spring night was dark, the rural gravel road offered them no street lights in the area, and the two sitting in the cab of the vehicle were too busy doing –well, Fiona didn't really care to think what Katie was doing with Robbie in there—they were too busy to offer the others the flashlight to find Daryl's lighter wherever it had rolled when they stopped by their target. Finally, Fiona rolled her eyes.<p>

"Gimme your cig," She mildly slurred and didn't allow him to hesitate as she carefully swiped the cancerous stick from his lips and resumed her perch stretched from the bed of the truck while taking a drag to light the wick. As soon as the flame took she tossed the string into the mailbox and thumped her hand on the side of the truck. Robbie was paying more attention than she gave him credit for, because the truck lurched forward and the tipsy Fiona teetered over the side of the truck. Daryl acted quickly and caught the girl by the waist of her jeans and tugged her back to safety. She was cackling happily and the pops that began issuing behind them provided the soundtrack for their speedy getaway out of sight of the home.

"How's it feel to be a felon, little girl?" Daryl teased as they settled in for the ride back to the party. This renewed her laughter.

"Hey, I don't back out of a dare… Really though, that felt great!" She exclaimed. "That guy was an ass. He deserved it, and I hope there was very important mail in there."

"Remind me not to get on your bad side if I'm expecting a letter." He laughed too. Daryl missed the extra pink flushing her cheeks.

"Don' think that would—" Fiona was interrupted in her musing.

"You guys want some?" Katie called from the window holding out a bottle of Jack. Fiona grinned, moved to snag it, but watched as Daryl beat her to it.

"Hey!"

"Age before beauty, ma'am." The way he cocked his brow hadn't changed.

"C'mon Daryl. Lemme have it first," Fiona pouted. She changed strategy quickly when she saw that wouldn't work. She reached for the bottle slyly and kept reaching as he tried to hold it out of her reach. "You don't even wanna drink it, do you?"

"Maybe I do, or maybe I don't think you need to be chugging any more before we get back. Never know what could- omfph!" His thought was cut short as the truck hit a bump catching the two off balance. Fiona had tried to catch herself from where she'd been reaching, but had landed rather ungracefully with her first hand smacking squarely at the apex of Daryl's legs and the other catching the side of the truck. As they fumbled to readjust Fiona noticed how red and strained her companion's features had turned and realization hit her.

"Ohmygosh! Um…did I hurt you? Are you okay? Speak?"

"Ungh," He groaned grasping tenderly at the point of impact. Fiona was trying very hard to ignore the humor she found in the situation, tried to focus on him being in pain.

"I'm so sorry, really are you ok?" Fiona tried again when she'd felt the humor pass.

"M'fine," He growled coldly. The tone put an end to any conversation Fiona would have attempted, and they sat quietly on the rest of the chilly ride home. The growing sounds of the party continuing her get her mind off the sour moment of the evening, and Katie helped further by dragging her friend off for more libations.

"Kay-Teeee!" Fiona drawled as she swung their arms exaggeratedly between them. They were walking semi-quietly away from the bonfire its group of wee-morning-greeters and toward the Dixon trailer where they would turn in for the night. "I don' wanna go in."

"Why not, Fifi?" Fiona wrinkled her nose at the very canine nickname. "Whatsa matter?"

"I think Daryl's mad at me," Fiona frowned and wobbled as she sniffled and thumbed at her nose. Katie simply rolled her eyes and tugged her along.

"An' its justa breakin' your heart that your crushiepie is in a mood?" Katie teased shaking her head at her friend.

"Shuddup," Fiona swatted at her blushing furiously.

"You afraid someone'll hear me talking about how much you wanna bang Dar—" Fiona clapped her hand over Katie's mouth.

"Shhh," She hissed with a finger pressed firmly to her lips looking much like a perturbed four-year-old. "Who even says bang Katie?" Fiona let her go. "But no…I…sorta hit his junk earlier."

"What?" Katie howled in laughter.

"When we were riding back earlier, Robbie hit a bump and I lost my balance and…bam!" Katie was practically rolling on the floor at the end of Fiona's explanation, embarrassing Fiona even more. She would have very much liked to bury herself right on the spot, maybe that would take of her swimmy head too.

"Maybe," Katie paused to laugh at her own suggestion, "maybe you could go make it feel better," and she was full out guffawing.

"Katie!" Fiona chided.

"I'm kiddin', geez. Calm down. I'm sure he knows it was a' accident," Katie shrugged. "Bet he'll forget by tomorrow."

They had reached the front door and conversation when dead as they entered so as not to disturb. Merle was snoring in the recliner with some late night trash on TV and Katie sweetly covered him with the light blanket from the couch before hugging Fiona.

"Go t'bed and don' worry about it. Ifhe's still upset tomorrow, you can buy him breakfast," Katie assured her before heading to the bed Merle had given up for her stay. "G'night Fi."

"Night Katie," Fiona whispered. She didn't take her friend's advice though. Instead, she waited to hear the bedroom door click closed before she headed down the hall to Daryl's door. She tapped quietly, but if he was awake he could have heard it easily. And he was, sort of.

"Fiona? What's up?" He had been lounging in just his jeans. Fiona watched him take a swig of beer and hold the can by his side leaning on the doorframe.

"Um," Her mind –inebriated and hormonal—had gotten stuck on his bare chest and she couldn't for the life of her unglue her eyes. She could almost feel her stomach fluttering; all her thoughts must have decidedly flown south. "I, uh, wanted." Well, that was a start.

Merle stirred in the recliner down the hall with a groan. Daryl stepped aside and allowed her into the room, graciously freeing her attention. The only light in the room was from the television set, and this was the first time she'd been more than a step inside his room. Daryl being familiar with the layout had no problem navigating in the dim light, but Fiona, already unsteady, caught her foot on a boot and went tumbling. Her impaired senses made her panic and she flailed her arms, even as Daryl caught her from a hard impact. Her hand connected in a smack to his mouth. What a thanks.

"Ack! I'm sorry. Sorry!" Fiona mourned over her clumsiness and mildly sobered up from her excitement. "Oh god, I hurt you again, didn't I?"

"Don't worry about it," Daryl grunted having righted her again and nursed his lip with his hand. Fiona fumbled around and moved his hands away to see the damage. The jaeger in her system told her it'd be alright to play mommy when faced with a 'boo-boo'. Fiona couldn't say what told her it was a good idea to keep playing along, but as she pressed her lips to his, she couldn't be bothered to try making sense.


End file.
